Against All Odds
by SiriusFan13
Summary: "Without his ring, a sorcerer is powerless."  No matter who you are, unless you are of Merlin's blood, this is a fact.  Even if you're a Sorcerer of the 777th Degree...    Even if you are Balthazar Blake.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sorcerer's Apprentice, either the movie or the novelization. Sadly, I don't own Dave or Balthazar either. However, I hope you enjoy my foray into their world.**

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**Against All Odds**

_"Success is not measured by what you accomplish, but by the opposition you have encountered, and the courage with which you have maintained the struggle against overwhelming odds." -Orison Swett Marden

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**Chapter One:**

"Your plasma bolt needs work." Balthazar shook his head, raising an eyebrow at his apprentice. "In fact, I think it was better _before_ we practiced."

Dave glared, breathing hard. His body bent over, hands on knees to support his exhausted frame. Of course, Balthazar hadn't even broken a sweat. Two hours of practice and _that _was what Dave got. Criticism and derision. _Then again, why am I surprised? If he _didn't_ criticize me, I'd spend the rest of my training wondering what's wrong. _Still, knowledge of that fact didn't make him feel any better. "You don't think that might be a result of exhaustion, do you, Balthazar?" he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The tall sorcerer barely spared him a glance, walking from the training circle to a small table containing a six-pack of orange pop surrounded by twice as many empty cans, a box of half eaten pizza that Balthazar could have sworn had been there for the last three practices, and a small teacup resting beside a teapot on a trivet. "Dave, has it occurred to you that less sugar and decaying food might help your concentration?"

"I don't think my lack of concentration has anything to do with my diet."

Balthazar ignored him, not really having wanted an answer to begin with. He picked up the cup and took a sip, making a face at its cold contents. "You need to either start learning things more quickly, or else invest in a microwave so I don't have to choke things down cold." He took another sip.

His lanky apprentice rolled his eyes, brushing dark hair from his face, and joined his master at the table. After testing three open cans before he found one that was still half-full, he took a long drink from it. Balthazar made a face at that, too. One more sip of the cold tea, before he sighed. "I'll just make more later."

"Or," Dave replied, irritated, "you could just warm it up."

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's no stove down here, Dave. You don't even have a Bunsen burner."

"You're a _sorcerer_. Sorcel it or something."

Balthazar coughed a bit at that. "First of all, the word is 'ensorcell'; we're going to have to work on your handle of the English language soon. Second, Merlinians don't waste magic on laziness. That's how you wind up with a hundred mops washing a giant electrical conductor." He sent Dave a significant look as he set the cup down. "Anyway, break's over. Back to practice." He began walking briskly to the Merlin's Circle. "Move it. The sooner you manage to get a hit on me, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Like that's ever going to happen," Dave muttered, tossing his empty can on the floor and dragging himself up out of the chair. "You know," he said a bit more loudly, "maybe if you gave me a chance to actually recuperate between your rounds of blasting me into the wall, I would be in better shape to fight you."

His master stopped halfway to the circle, and turned back to the boy, raising an eyebrow. "So you think I should go easier on you, then? You think that might help?"

"Probably."

Balthazar nodded, appearing to consider the idea. "And you think that Horvath, or any other Morganian for that matter, is going to make sure you're feeling okay before they try to kill you?" He ignored the sharp glare from the boy before him. "You've faced Morgana. And Horvath. And even that little apprentice of his. You _know_ they won't fight fair. They _count_ on you to weaken. And unlike me, they _always_ shoot to kill."

"Yeah, yeah," Dave groused. "You don't _have_ to shoot to kill. You'll just train me to death." His voice raised in his frustration. "You act like I even have a chance against you, Balthazar. No matter how good I get, I'll never beat you." He quietly added under his breath, "No one is good enough to beat you."

"Morgana was," was Balthazar's only reply.

Dave glanced up to see a distant look in his master's eyes.

"And you defeated Morgana," the man continued. "We tracked her for hundreds of years, Veronica, Horvath, and I. Neither Veronica nor I could perfectly contain her with the fusion spell." He unrolled a sleeve showing a vicious scar that David have never seen before, crossed by a number of smaller ones. "I have scars like this everywhere from all the times she nearly killed me. Would have killed me." He paused, his expression serious. "_Did_ kill me." He took a deep breath. "You're my apprentice for now. But the point of this is for you to surpass me. I'm counting on you to do that, and I have faith that you can. You're already stronger than I am in some ways. You just need to learn to control the powers you showed when you faced her. The rest will come with time. And a great deal of training. You _have_ to become stronger than I am, otherwise you're wasting your potential. And if I can't guide you to that point, then I'm wasting your time."

They were both silent for a long moment before Dave responded, "Balthazar, you aren't wasting anyone's time. I'm _trying_. I am. But you have over a thousand years of experience on me. What do you expect me to do? I can't compete with that. I'm trying to reach my potential here, but I'm up against a master. Against Merlin's own apprentice. Do you think that's easy for me?"

Balthazar leveled a steady look at him. "I may be Merlin's apprentice, but you carry Merlin's blood. You have capabilities that Veronica and I will never have because of that. After a thousand years, how much more magic do you think I have left to learn? I'm at my peak. You can only gain on me now. Eventually I expect you to surpass me." He smirked, the uncharacteristically quiet tone leaving his voice. "Don't get cocky, now. I _mean_ it when I say 'eventually'. You have a _long _way to go... But you _are_ capable of great things when you get there."

Dave sighed. "I don't know how you can be so sure." He dropped back down into the chair in frustration.

His master shook his head, approaching his apprentice again. "Okay, let me try to explain this differently... It's like this: Anyone can draw. No matter how terrible it is, we are all capable of scratching out a picture. But that doesn't mean that everyone is an artist. We have to work to improve our art. Eventually, if we have enough passion and enough skill, we can become great artists. _I_ am a great artist, trained by one of the greatest. _You _still doodle." Dave snorted at that comment, unsurprised at its addition to the explanation. The sorcerer continued, unfazed. "_But_ in the end, even with my skill... no matter how long I train and how good I get... I will never be Michelangelo." He shot Dave a sharp look. "You already are. My job is to give you the knowledge you need to paint the Sistine Chapel."

There was dead silence for a moment before Dave responded awkwardly, "I can't even draw stick men."

"It's an analogy, Dave." He rubbed his temples. "We really are starting English lessons tomorrow. This is just getting painful for me, now."

As minor a comment as that was, it was finally the last straw for Dave. He was tired, frustrated, and irritable. And he'd been putting up with Balthazar's dizzying explanations and expectations ever since their little "break" had started. He was going to go insane soon.

The boy finally leapt from his seat, and brushed past his mentor, entering the Merlin's Circle. "Okay... so things I'm 'capable of''? Like what? Making plasma bolts that _might_ get through your defenses if I attack while you're complaining about your tea? Managing to block your fire because it's coming at my face and I kind of don't want to _die_?" He motioned expressively at the entire room. "You can make my own Tesla coils attack me. You _have_ as a matter of fact. Repeatedly. And I'm supposed to believe that I'm _capable_ of doing more than you. Like _what_? _What_ am I capable of?" He pointed quickly at Balthazar before the man could speak. "And don't bring Morgana up again. That was triggered by extreme stress and the fact that you were injured too badly to do it yourself. Otherwise you would have."

Balthazar approached the circle, entering it and standing across from his apprentice. "You want an example? How about this? _You_ don't need the ring. You have _proven_ that you can do magic without it. Not _well, _in general. But you can when it matters, Morgana or not."

"That doesn't count, Balthazar. _Y__ou_ don't use a ring either! When do you _ever_ point a ring at anything?"

His mentor paused, running his hand through his dark blond hair. "I always use my ring, Dave."

The boy stared at him. "What? You... what?"

"I always use it." Balthazar approached his apprentice, and spread his hands open for the boy to get a good look. "I _wear_ all of these rings, so no one can disarm me. Because it's harder to take something when they don't know which I use."

"But..." He stared at the man's hands for a moment, then looked his master in the eye. "But I've never even see you use it."

"I'm a master sorcerer, Dave. I don't have to point it at things like you do. I use it to channel my energy into my hands. I use my hands to control my magic. But without it, I have nothing." At Dave's disbelieving look, the older man sighed, yanking one ring with a large green diamond off of his finger. "Hold this," he growled, irritated. "Do not play with it or drop it or try it on. Just _hold_ it."

Dave nodded, carefully taking the ring from the older man.

Balthazar moved to Dave's side, the way he often did during training to be sure his apprentice could clearly see every one of his motions. Carefully, the man moved into position for a plasma bolt, one of Balthazar's favorite bits of magic. The first spell he had ever taught David. One of the most basic. He raised his hands, moved them exactly as he always did to form the ball of energy between them.

Dave waiting for the spark and the glow.

There was nothing. Not even the small hair-raising feeling of the electricity forming in the air. That tiny jolt of _something_ that Dave had managed after a couple of tries.

_Nothing._

Balthazar had been unable to even make a spark. Dave just stared at the man, unnerved. He glanced back down at the ring in his hand... Such a small thing, but so vital to his master. Dave suddenly felt both uncomfortable and important that Balthazar would allow him to hold something so valuable to him. That Balthazar would entrust something that was so clearly a part of him to Dave, even if only for a few moments. Silently, he held the ring out to Balthazar. The older man quickly reached for it, slipping it back on his index finger, feeling complete once again. It was as though a part of his soul were missing when his power was gone, it had been a part of his existence for so long. It defined who he was. He felt almost as though he were nothing when it was missing. "You see?" he said, softly. "I'm no stronger than any of them without it. Just much, _much_ older and more experienced in life and death. Without that ring, I'm no different than anyone else."

Dave shook his head, discomforted by the odd tone in Balthazar's voice. "_That_, I don't believe," he replied lightly. "Trust me, you've never needed that ring to be 'different'."

The dark mood was broken as Balthazar smiled faintly at the boy next to him. "Anyway, I think you've stalled on your training long enough. If you haven't managed to get your second wind by now, then you _deserve_ whatever I dish out at you."

Dave groaned as Balthazar moved back to the opposite end of the Merlin's circle once more. "Step into my office," he said, grinning, an almost wicked glint in the Merlinian's eye.

"You mean your torture chamber," Dave muttered. He obediently stepped into the elemental circle, anyway, bracing himself for another hour of hell.

_And now that he's recharged, I get to be his human punching bag again. God, I love my life... _ Though, Dave had to admit that he preferred this to having seen his master stand powerless within the circle.

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_Author's Note: A little something that popped into my head when I realized that you never really SEE Balthazar pointing a ring around like Horvath often uses his staff, and Dave generally uses his own ring. I knew he HAD to have something, so I asked Kaytori who pointed out that the large yellow ring on Balthazar's index finger glows when he uses magic in the movie. And THAT got me to thinking... what if Balthazar's ring went missing...?_

_A big thank you to Kaytori for being my sounding board (and adding greatly to the idea) when we discussed this. And thanks to lolo popoki and Kaytori for their great beta work._

_And of course, thanks to all of you for reading. I hope to have the next chapter soonish (although Autumn and some of my Kenshin fics are really due for an update ^ _ ^; )._

_Dewa mata._

_Sirius_

_P.S. A thank you to Delta VT for pointing out that Balthazar's ring is supposed to be green, not yellow (weird movie lighting...). A green diamond. Very cool.  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Against All Odds**

**Chapter 2:**

"What do you mean, you can't practice right now?" Balthazar snapped, crossing his arms and shooting a glare at his much younger apprentice as they stood in the dimly lit underground lab. "What could possibly be more important?"

Dave rolled his eyes, approaching his master while ticking off things on his fingers. "Let's see... how about school? So I can graduate and get a job?"

"You _have_ a job," his master interrupted. "You have an important job. Which involves a lot of training that you happen to be slacking on at the moment."

"A job," Dave continued, as though the man hadn't spoken, "that pays me money to live on. So I can eat. And _there's_ another 'more important' thing, Balthazar. Food. Which I don't have unless I go shopping. Which I can't do if I practice right now, since the store closes in less than an hour. In fact, _you_ don't get to eat either unless you or Veronica join me."

The irritated glare on his master's face began to waver as he realized exactly where this was heading. Dave had to fight to suppress a grin. The man was intense. Very intense. And often when he got into things that mattered to him, he forgot the small basics. Like groceries... For the past two weeks. Sometimes it seemed to be a good idea for Dave to pull the centuries-old man back into very current problems, small though they may be. "So, are you coming with me or not?"

"Fine. Go." Balthazar grumbled. "Take Veronica with you. I'll wait. Since she insists on cooking, she should get to pick out the food at least." He sighed. Then, as though suddenly realizing that the boy might take this concession as cooperation rather than necessity, he shot a sharp glare at his apprentice. "But we practice as soon as you get back. So, if I were you, I'd hurry or else you'll cut into your homework time. And you can't use Veronica to change my mind on that one."

Dave grinned, completely ignoring the second, deadlier glare that was directed toward him. "Sounds fair. Can we use your car then? It'll be a lot faster."

"You can walk," Balthazar snapped, scooping the Incantus off of the crate it was resting on near the Merlin's Circle as he walked to the table and dropped into one of the chairs. He brushed the empty pop cans to the floor and dumped the heavy book onto the cleared space with a thud.

Dave followed. "Come on, Balthazar. I won't wreck it."

"No." He wouldn't make eye contact, making himself comfortable on the chair and flipping open the cover. "You'll just turn it into a Pinto. Again."

"_One_ time." Dave held up a finger. "I only did it once. And it was my first attempt at transformation."

"_Or," _Balthazar continued, turning pages. "you'll strap an electrical conductor to the hood."

"I saved your ass with that thing. Or would you have preferred being gored to death by a metal bull?"

"You scratched the paint."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Which you fixed with a wave of your bejeweled hand." Dave mimicked the motion of a sideshow magician.

"Knock it off," Balthazar snapped, finally glancing back up at him as he found the page he was looking for. "You look like that Drake kid when you do that. I'm not training a circus performer. I'm training someone who will eventually be able to channel all of Merlin's powers." He rubbed his temples, adding softly under his breath, "God help us..."

He turned his focus back to the book before Dave could work out an appropriate response. "I'd start walking or else the store will close before you get there."

"_Fine," _Dave snapped, turning to leave. "Some mentor _you_ are..."

"Master... not mentor," Balthazar reminded him, mildly. "And your master says to pick up the pace. Oh, and tell Veronica that we're out of tea."

"You know," his apprentice grumbled. "This means that Veronica's going to have to walk, too."

"She doesn't _like_ cars, Dave. She'll prefer this." He glanced back up. "We need milk, too. My wallet's on the coffee table."

"Yeah, yeah." His apprentice stomped off up the stairs, completely missing the amused twitch of his master's lips as he watched the boy's temper flare.

Just as he reached the door, Balthazar called out once more behind him, his smile growing, "And don't buy any more pizza until you finish the one that's been molding down here for the past two weeks."

Dave's only response was slamming the door behind him.

Balthazar just chuckled and went back to his book. If they weren't going to practice, then it was only fair that he should get to verbally abuse the boy a little. Had to get his kicks somehow.

He settled into the chair to begin reading. Might as well freshen up on some disarming spells. He almost never used them anymore. Most had been set for actually disarming an ordinary man wielding a sword or some other archaic hand-held weapon. He'd exchanged spells like this for more powerful protection back when he'd first realized that Merlin had passed on more than just a beacon for the Prime Merlinian when he'd handed over the dragon ring. He'd also put a giant target on Balthazar's back. Made him the most hunted Merlinian alive.

Balthazar skimmed the page. But even though guns were more common than broadswords these days, he was certain Dave could still get _some _use out of some of these spells. They shouldn't be too difficult to modify for knives and other more modern weapons. He smirked. At least then his apprentice wouldn't have to go around setting garbage cans on fire anymore.

The click of the upstairs door broke into his thoughts. _Dammit, Dave_, he thought to himself, _just go already..._ Sourly, without even looking behind him, he snapped, "I already told you that I'm not lending you the car. So get over it and get out of my face."

"So rude to your guests?" a smooth British voice replied from the shadows behind him. "Didn't your master teach you any better?"

At the sound of that voice, Balthazar was immediately in motion, taking only a second to throw the Incantus to the floor before he dove out of the way, himself, knowing he'd never get a shield up in time. Sure enough, the table was in splinters, bits of wood already slicing the sorcerer before he was even able to get back to his feet. A second blast caught him before he could raise his defense. With that hit, the room went black. Inwardly, he groaned, finally able to pull his shield into place. _Wonderful. Blindness spell. As though this weren't fun enough already... _Now he couldn't risk dropping his shield long enough for _any _offensive maneuvers.

"Really, Balthazar," the man continued, coolly, "I'd have thought someone like _you_ would have at least thought to set some wards..." Balthazar tried to focus on the location of the voice. Somewhere in front of him still, as far as he could tell. Balthazar hadn't heard anyone on the steps, but that didn't mean anything. Stairs weren't really a necessity.

Another blast hit his shield, which he easily deflected. It was clearly not meant to injure, only test. Always an intelligent move when faced with an unfamiliar opponent. Or, in this case... one you haven't seen in a very long time...

"Jacobus..." Balthazar snarled. "And here I'd hoped you were dead."

A dark laugh echoed quietly in the lab, and Balthazar focused on its approximate origin. It seemed to be somewhat to his right. His attacker had already moved. Balthazar reinforced his shield on that side, while making sure not to turn in that direction. No need to let anyone realize that he had an idea where the next blast would come from.

"I must say, I'm impressed. I haven't seen you in such a long time, I'd expected you'd gone soft. What with Morgana gone and that idiot Horvath as your only real 'threat', if one would call him that. I'm so glad I was mistaken." His tone darkened. "That means this will be much more fun..."

The man's voice seemed to be coming from the left now. _What the hell?_ He couldn't have moved that quickly.

"So, old man... have you missed our games?" The voice was right by his ear..

_Distribution spell. He's splitting his voice. Damn!_

The ever-moving voice finally made sense to him just as a plasma bolt blasted him from behind, weakening his shield. The second it fizzled out, he turned and dropped his shield long enough to send a bolt of his own in that direction. It crackled against a stone wall. He drew up his shield again, waiting, trying to throw off the darkness. This was like fighting in a cage.

"What are you doing here?" Balthazar growled, taking a step backward. "If you planned on resurrecting Morgana, I hate to break it to you, but you're a few months late." Then, a thought struck him, and he narrowed his eyes, smirking a little. "Even our friend Horvath figured that much out..."

Another plasma bolt blasted at the centuries-old sorcerer, stronger this time. Enough to crack his shield. He froze briefly, feeling the spell on him waver a touch. _Good. Just need go get him pissed enough to drop it entirely. _"Yeah," Balthazar continued. "She's dead. Grimhold is gone. The ring's gone..." Another couple steps.

Again, his shield was blasted, more cracks forming. God, he just wanted to drop the thing and blast the hell out of his adversary. But he knew that's exactly what the other sorcerer was waiting for. One falter of the shield and he'd take Balthazar down. He'd gotten lucky enough to drop it once without damage. Balthazar wasn't fool enough to think he'd be able to manage _that_ again, blind. He had to wait until he could reorient himself. With his next step back, he almost tripped over the small toolkit behind him and threw his hand back, catching the wire of Dave's control cage to brace himself.

_Bingo._

In one fluid motion, he dropped his shield and turned to his left, using the cage's location to help him get his bearings in the blackness. He knew that another bolt had already been released, but he just braced himself as best he could for its impact. His own hands were already raised, and within moments, the room was crackling with the electricity of Dave's Tesla coils. The bolt hit him from behind just as he managed to partially raise a shield to take the brunt of the blow. He immediately turned, sending one of the bolts of electricity straight at the source of the attack, following it up with a plasma bolt of his own.

Obviously he hit his target. There was a shout of pain and anger, and immediately Balthazar's vision was restored.

"What do you want, Jacobus?" Balthazar snarled, glaring at his opponent.

A tall, black-haired man stood in the eerie flickering electric blue light. He sneered, taking a step toward Balthazar. "Tesla coils? Really? Don't you think this is delving a bit _too_ much into science now, Balthazar? Even for us?" Though, Balthazar noted that he was favoring his right leg. His little brush with Dave's equipment had done its job.

"What do you want?" He repeated more quietly this time.

"What do _you_ think?"

Balthazar's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about _her_, Jacobus. I was left with no—"

But the man cut him off before he could finish. "Balthazar," he said coldly, his voice now low and deadly. "I'm sick of playing games. Centuries of cat and mouse... Hide and seek. It's all grown so tiresome. I want only one thing. And now, dear Balthazar, you've finally given me the opportunity to retrieve it from you. My gratitude to your little apprentice for distracting you these past few months long enough that you stopped tracking me."

The sorcerer froze, a sick feeling in his stomach. "Leave Dave out of this. He's got nothing to do with you."

"Au contraire, old man. This has everything to do with him." His eyes flashed as he lifted his hands sharply. Red flames shot from the cold stone, cutting the Morganian Pentagram into the stone floor, a portion of it overlapping the Circle. He lowered his hands, and the flames dropped immediately, although there was still a dull red glow from beneath him. He stood stiffly in the center, a strange, ice-blue glow to his eyes.

Balthazar made a move to charge, but to his surprise found himself unable to leave the spot. _Damn! He couldn't have..._ One glance down confirmed his fears. He stood directly over the place where the Circle and Pentagram overlapped. He wouldn't be moving anywhere for now. Worse, he wouldn't be using magic either. "_Jacobus!"_ he roared, fighting against its hold, but knowing that he'd wasted too much in his defenses to find the energy he'd need now to free himself from this. The entire situation had just slipped far beyond "not good".

"Quiet!" The man snapped, shooting nother bolt in his adversary's direction, satisfied to hit him while he was unable to defend himself. "And," he smiled, clearly enjoying himself. "A few more for my own, personal enjoyment." The last hit was bad enough to drop Balthazar to the ground.

Holding his side and breathing hard, Balthazar, slowly and painfully pulled himself to his feet.

"I much prefer to see you on your knees," He slammed another close-range bolt into the Merlinian, dropping him again. "Where you belong." He chuckled.

Balthazar finally manged to stand. He lifted his chin and glared back silently.

Jacobus stepped forward until he was face to face with Balthazar. "Now..." His eyes gleamed. "I believe you have something that belongs to me..."

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_Author's Note: *gasp*! I know... I actually updated it. Hopefully you like what you see. If so, then you also owe a great big thanks to lolo popoki and Kaytori for their amazing beta work. This chapter was weak before they got their hands on it!_

_Thanks for reading, and please review._

_Dewa mata!_

_Sirius  
_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Their first clue that something was wrong should have been when they found the door to the lab locked. But neither Dave nor Veronica thought much on it. It seemed natural to Veronica that the door _would_ be locked.

Dave just grumbled, while digging out his keys, that he should have expected something like this after pissing off Balthazar.

Their second clue should have been when Dave's key didn't work. "He changed the locks?" Dave growled, tired and irritated and honestly ready to just break the door down with a plasma bolt.

"Wards," Veronica replied calmly. Again, after years of war, and now with Horvath on the loose, it seemed perfectly logical to her that Balthazar would protect the lab's entrance. Honestly, she was more surprised that he hadn't done it sooner. She moved to disarm the door, a bit startled by how strong the defenses were. She kept forgetting how much more powerful Balthazar had grown through those years when they'd been separated.

Dave just stood there, glaring at the door, holding his keys and the pizza that Balthazar would undoubtedly complain about. He was glad that, since it had been on their way anyway, they'd at least stopped off at the couple's apartment to drop off the food before coming here. He didn't feel like standing in a mountain of produce while he watched Veronica break down the wards that his cranky, overly-paranoid master had spontaneously decided to set.

Finally, the magic was cleared and the door opened. The lights were out. There was a slight tingle of electricity in the air. The faint smell of smoke. Three more clues that they should have noticed, though to Veronica's credit, she was finally starting to grow uncomfortable. She frowned, her dark eyes worried.

Ironically, the thing that finally drew Dave's concern was the silence. No criticisms. No complaints. No plasma bolts knocking Dave on his ass as prelude to a lecture on "always being prepared." Nothing.

It was the silence that bothered him.

"Balthazar?" he called.

Nothing.

"Balthazar?" There was clear worry in Veronica's voice.

Dave flicked the light switch on, illuminating the room. Chairs were overturned. Scorch marks on the wall. Two lights smashed, throwing half the room into shadowy darkness.

Balthazar sat near the center of the room on a charred wooden chair near the remains of the lab's only table at the edge of the shadows. He calmly flipped through the pages of Dave's Incantus, which rested on his lap. "Shut the door, Dave," he said, mildly, turning another page. "And set some wards."

"Balthazar!" Veronica exclaimed in relief. She made her way down the stairs.

Dave leaned against the railing of the stairs, both hands on the rail, head bowed a moment in relief. "God, Balthazar, you gave me a heart attack when you didn't answer." He shook his head, finally moving to shut the door. He then moved to follow Veronica.

"Set the wards, Dave." Balthazar's even voice was tense.

Veronica froze partway down the stairs. There was an edge to his voice that she hadn't heard in a very long time. Only once their past together. And that time was one she'd tried hard to forget. "Balthazar?" she asked again, warily. Worried.

Dave, still clueless in his relief that his master was all right, even with the obvious destruction in the lab, didn't notice Balthazar's tone. He glanced back at the door. "Your old one there was pretty strong. Even Veronica had trouble with it. It would probably be better if you—"

"Set the damn wards," the older sorcerer finally snapped through gritted teeth, jarring his apprentice into action.

Shaken, the boy set them, hoping they'd be strong enough to hold against whatever Balthazar was obviously expecting.

Veronica had slowly begun making her way down the stairs again. "Those wards weren't yours, were they, Balthazar?"

He finally looked up at her, his face in shadow. His brief bout of anger gone. "No." His voice was dead tired.

"Why?" she asked, watching him steadily.

"To keep me in."

Before she could respond, Dave cut in, clattering down the stairs behind her. "What happened in here?" Then he spotted the scorch marks a few feet from his electrical equipment. "My Tesla coils!"

"They're fine," Balthazar responded dryly, sounding for the first time more like his usual self. "But I appreciate your concern for my welfare." He set the Incantus on the floor beside him. "How long until you're done with that thing, anyway? I'm getting tired of having to protect it." But his grumbling didn't have its usual flavor.

"You protected—"

"What happened?" Veronica broke in, bringing the focus back to the problem at hand. She closed the distance between herself and her husband as he stood slowly and carefully.

"The place was robbed." He finally took a step toward them, leaving the shadows behind.

Veronica's dark eyes widened.

"Jeez, Balthazar," Dave whispered now that his master was fully visible, all concerns about his experiments—and even his lab—obliterated by the sight of his master who had finally stepped more clearly into the light. "What _happened_?"

Part of his sleeve burned away, some of his arm burned as well by the looks of it. A wicked bruise ran along his jaw. Blood from scratches and cuts marred his hands and face. God knew how many other injuries there were that were invisible to the eyes. It was bad. Really bad. But, Dave had to admit, obviously not life-threatening. He just looked like he'd just lost a really tough fight. It happened.

But not to Balthazar. Not like this. And coupled with his master's words. "_To keep me in..."_

By the look on Veronica's face, Dave was betting the same thought was running through her mind as well. "Oh, God," she whispered. "What happened to you? Are you all right?" Then a more practical concern. "Who did this to you?"

"Yeah," Dave added. "And _how_?"

Veronica hurried to her husband, but he held his hand up abruptly. "Wait!"

She froze.

"Just stay there," he said. "Just for a minute. I have to think."

"Balthazar," Dave cut in, trying for what had to have been the fifth time by now to get an answer out of the man. "What—"

"I told you," his master replied shortly, annoyance creeping into his voice. "Robbed. Now let me _think_." He began pacing, stopping abruptly in one direction as though he'd hit a wall. A brief expression of irritation flickered across his face.

Veronica hadn't moved since his command, eyes narrowed as she forced herself to look away from her husband, focusing instead on the lab itself. Carefully assessing the situation. Clearly trying to work out what exactly was going on. His abrupt stop drew her focus back to him. Then her eyes dropped to the floor. "Balthazar..." she whispered, beginning to understand.

"A _robber_ did this to you?" Dave snapped at his master, tossing the pizza box down onto an overturned crate. "What was it? A whole den of thieves?" He shook his head. "How did they even...?" His voice trailed off as he noticed a faint red glow shimmering slightly from a groove cut into the floor. He stared at it a moment. "What's this?" he asked, kneeling to get a better look.

"Stop!"

He froze mid-crouch at the sound of both Balthazar _and_ Veronica's joint command. "I was just checking it out..." he started, looking up to find both sorcerers just staring at him. "What?"

Veronica's head whipped back around to look at her husband, a hard look now in her eyes. The concerned wife still there, but currently overshadowed by the seasoned fighter. "Who did this?"

"A sorcerer."

Her eyes flashed. "I _know_ it was a sorcerer. I asked _who—"_

At her response, Balthazar seemed to get some of his own fire back. "How am _I_ supposed to know?" Balthazar snapped back, turning from her to pick the Incantus up from the floor. "Could be anyone. You can make a lot of enemies in a thousand years."

"You didn't see the guy?" Dave asked, stiffening in surprise.

"Blinding spell."

"It wasn't just _any_ sorcerer," Veronica continued, refusing to be sidetracked. "It was a Morganian—"

"Obviously."

"A Morganian..." she shot him a silencing glare, "who was powerful enough to create the Pentagram. _Here_. In proximity to the Circle."

At that, Dave's head snapped up from his examination of the odd glow to an assessment of the entire form. He and Veronica were just outside of one of the points. Balthazar was within. From the way Veronica was reacting, Dave had a feeling that just being inside of it was a bad thing, even if nothing seemed to be happening in the lab anymore. Suddenly Dave understood his master's abrupt command for them to stop. "Was it Horvath?"

Balthazar shook his head. "No. He won't be around anytime soon."

Veronica's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And how do you know _that_?"

"Trust me. I just do." He rubbed his hand over his face, tiredly. "Veronica, please." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "Just contain it. I've been trapped in here for over an hour now. It's strong, and it's starting to drive me crazy." He sent her a significant look. "You've been trapped in one of these things before."

At that, her expression softened. "Of course," she said quietly. "I'm sorry." Then, in a voice just hard enough to remind him that he wasn't off the hook yet, she added, "If it's as strong as the words over the door, it won't be easy."

"It's probably stronger. The wards weren't even necessary. Just a precaution. I had to hear all about it while they were being set."

"And you didn't recognize the voice?"

At his silence, she sighed. "Fine."

Quietly, almost absently, he added, "It breached the Circle."

Veronica's lips tightened into a thin line as she began working at breaking it down.

Dave's eyes widened, as he suddenly realized exactly where his master was standing. At the intersection of the two symbols. The Circle was dark. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that meant. "He managed to break—"

"'Breach', not 'break'. Big difference. All he did was overlap the powers slightly. No one can truly modify this particular circle except for you or I: master and apprentice bound within it. This space is ours."

"What _I_ don't understand," Veronica interrupted, still struggling with breaking down the old, complex magic, "is how he could even breach it _this_ much. That's next to impossible without its creator's help."

"He was strong."

"But you don't know who it was?"

"Will you stop _asking _me that?" he snapped, irritably, reaching the end of his rope. "I was a bit too busy with the fight to exchange pleasantries."

She glared. "Fine. This would be a lot easier if I could get some help."

The man nodded. "Dave. Help her."

His apprentice, who had been watching the argument with some fascination, suddenly stared at his master with the expression of a child guilty of eavesdropping on his parents' argument. "What?"

"Lift the Circle for her." At the boy's puzzled look, he sighed. "You have almost as much control over it as I do. She needs something to disrupt the Morganian magic. The point where they intersect is what's holding me. If you can bring up the Circle for her, it should weaken the bonds between the two enough for me to get out. We can worry about completely tearing it down later. I need to get out of this thing."

Dave just nodded, noting the exhaustion in his master's eyes. His voice. And it wasn't just from the fight, Dave realized suddenly. The Pentagram was doing something to him as well. Probably one reason for the man's odd flare-ups at Veronica. He may be more than happy to chew Dave out, but Veronica...? Apparently Balthazar was still fighting... something in there. Had been for all this time.

Any questions he had could wait until after Balthazar was freed. "Just... raise the circle?"

"Right. Just raise it. Even if it _doesn't,_ for some reason, weaken the connection, the circle will give me added protection against this thing.

Dave nodded. _Worth a try_. He'd rarely raised the Circle on his own. Generally when Dave showed up for training his master was already there—waiting—the Circle in place. He banished those thoughts from his mind. _Just get him out of there. Worry about why _he _isn't doing it himself, later._ Because _that_, Dave realized, was what had been nagging at the back of his mind since his master had commanded he reset the wards on the door at their entrance. _Later. I can team up with Veronica against him on this later..._

The boy entered the Circle, giving the Pentagram wide berth, until he entered the center: The Forbidden Realm. It remained silent, necessary as nothing more than a focus point at the moment. He closed his eyes, concentrating. Trying to connect.

"Be careful about the timing," Balthazar warned. "You need to raise it when she tells you. It has to be simultaneous."

Dave nodded. "Right." He focused until he felt the sudden spark from within. A vague nod to Veronica. Then silence as he felt the strength of the Circle hum within him, in tune with his own power. Throbbing with the beat of his own heart. Yet, he found that it was harder to keep steady than he'd anticipated. "Hurry," he urged. "It feels unstable."

"It's out of balance," Balthazar responded. "Like a magnet. You're dealing with polar opposites. They both attract and repel each other. Just try to hold it."

Out of nowhere, there was a change in the air, and the red glow flared and abruptly dimmed around his master.

"Ready?" Veronica's voice was calm. As though she daily saved sorcerers from Morganian prisons. Then again... once upon a time, maybe she had.

He nodded.

"Good. Then _now_!"

At her words, he lifted his arms, putting everything into the Circle. He heard the flare of flames around him, felt the _whoosh_ of power, stronger than usual just as another burst of a much darker power erupted nearby. The two throbbed against each other a moment before the circle flared once more. Too strong this time for the half-trained apprentice to maintain, even if he _were_ the Prime Merlinian. The Circle abruptly dropped.

_Dammit_.

"Excellent. So you _do_ get something out of our training, after all..."

Dave's eyes snapped open in surprise.

The Circle was dark. But so was the Pentagram. Balthazar was free.

The older man stood beside him smiling faintly. "Now, if I could only get you to show that sort of power even when it _isn't_ a crisis, we'd be getting somewhere."

Dave stared at him. Balthazar looked even worse up close like this. "Yeah..."

Veronica had wrapped her arms around her husband, holding him close, even as she commented, "And now you owe us answers." There was a no-nonsense look in her eyes.

Balthazar's expression went blank again at that.

"How about one from me?" Dave asked, catching the older man's eye. "Just one, and I swear I'll leave you alone."

"What?" His master's voice was gruff, but wary.

"Why couldn't you do your own magic?"

The two older sorcerers stared at him. "What?" Balthazar repeated, an odd look on his face.

"Yeah," Dave said, running his hand through his hair, and glancing awkwardly away from the intense look on his master's face. "You haven't done any magic since we got here. The wards. The circle. You made me do everything. Why?" He glanced back at the man. "I may not know much about magic yet by your standards, but I'm a scientist. And I notice details. You didn't even try. Why?"

Silence.

"You couldn't, could you?"

The two men finally made eye contact. Brown locked with storm blue. Dave had an intensity in his that for once matched his master's. A look on his face that Balthazar had been struggling to draw out of the boy since they'd first met. Now that it was here, so close to the surface, the man found himself answering the question, more to keep that confident intensity burning in them than any other reason. _This _was the Prime Merlinian. The man his apprentice could be. When it mattered most.

"No. I couldn't." Then, as an afterthought, he added. "I can't." Before either Veronica or Dave could even open their mouths, he raised his hands in front of him, fingers splayed out. Nine rings glimmered in the dim light of the lab.

One was missing.

* * *

_Author's note: Thanks to Kaytori, lolo popoki, and FrostPhoenix for their beta work. (And to Kaytori for being a super soundboard:P) I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I hope to update soon, although I am working on NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), so trying to write a 50,000 word novella in one month may prove to be too difficult if I'm updating fanfics, too. We'll see. Either way, thanks for reading. Please review! (And yay for the Sorcerer's Apprentice DVD coming out at the end of the month!)_

_Dewa mata._

_Sirius  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

"Your ring is gone," Dave said, too stunned to register how pointless that response had been.

"Funny, but I noticed that," his master replied, dryly. Now that he was out of the Pentagram, he seemed to slowly be loosening up. Sounding a bit more like himself. _That _was a relief at least. Even so, Dave noticed that Balthazar had clenched his right hand protectively into a fist when he finally dropped it out of their view.

It was then that the full import of what had just happened hit him. Someone had broken in and managed to injure _Balthazar_ of all people. Someone powerful. And now his master was completely unarmed while that maniac was on the loose.

"Balthazar," Veronica breathed, eyes wide.

The man had turned away from them, picking up an overturned chair and straightening a few other half-demolished items.

"You can't do magic," Dave said quietly.

Balthazar paused in his pointless busywork a moment. "I realize that," he snapped, irritably. "I didn't just stand there and _let_ him attack me for fun."

Dave winced slightly. So maybe he wasn't _quite_ past the effects of the Pentagram. He hoped that Balthazar would be over it soon. He was used to his master being irritable. But there was a harsh, icy tone to his voice right now that Dave didn't like. He had a feeling that the man's words were cutting into him even as he directed them at his apprentice. And although Balthazar would never show it, Dave didn't doubt that if his master didn't get his reactions under control soon, he would wind up regretting it later when he was himself again.

"He didn't mean that, Balthazar," Veronica quietly cut in.

The older man tensed a moment. Turned back as though he were going to make another angry retort. Then stopped himself, closing his eyes tightly. He took one deep breath, shoulders finally relaxing, and said in a voice more his own. "I know that." An expression of annoyance flitted across his face, but this time it was obviously not directed at anyone except, perhaps, himself. "The Pentagram's still working on me. Just bear with it. I'm doing what I can." He paused, reluctantly admitting, "It's harder to resist without my ring." He dropped onto one of the few chairs that hadn't been demolished in the fight, eyes closed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Veronica nodded, saying nothing.

Dave sat on a crate. "Balthazar..." he began tentatively.

The older sorcerer looked up at him. "What?" His voice was gruff, but not angry.

"This is probably another stupid question," he warned, pausing again until his master motioned for him to go on. "It's just that I don't really get it. I mean, why would this guy go through all of this work just to steal your ring when he could have..." The boy trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence as the memory of his master's brief death at the hands of Morgana resurfaced.

"When he could have killed me?" Balthazar asked quietly.

Dave winced, nodding. "Yeah."

"I don't know. He probably doesn't want me dead. A sorcerer of the 777th degree could be a powerful ally, if properly _persuaded _to join their cause. Especially one trained by Merlin."

"Like anyone could 'persuade' you to become Morganian."

Balthazar snorted softly, not even bothering to answer that.

His apprentice sighed. "And you're sure it wasn't Horvath?"

Balthazar tensed. "Yes," he replied, testily. "You already asked me that."

Dave shook his head. "I know. It's just... to not kill you... I just figured that maybe Horvath—"

"Would love to kill me," Balthazar finished shortly. "Which he's proven more than once."

"I know, but who else? At least you two were friends back then. You never know... maybe he's—"

"That was centuries ago, Dave. We've been enemies for much longer than we were friends." His voice sounded tired.

"But—"

Balthazar's jaw clenched. "I'd _know_ if it were Horvath."

His apprentices eyes darkened. "If Drake could trick you with an illusion, then so could he," the youth burst out.

"Let it drop," his master growled.

"Then tell us who it was," Veronica cut in, startling them both, "so we can help you get the ring back before something worse happens."

Balthazar took a deep breath. "I told you, I don't know," he said, glaring away at them once again.

Dave's brow furrowed. _Why won't he even look at us? _

"Yes," his wife said simply. "You do."

He looked up at her sharply.

"You're a terrible liar, Balthazar. You always have been."

Dave just stared in surprise and amusement as his master's continued lack of eye contact suddenly made perfect sense. "You really are..."

Balthazar's withering glare immediately shut his apprentice up, even as the man's temper flared again and he snapped unthinkingly, "It wasn't him. I recognized the ring—" He broke off abruptly at that, but it was too late.

"Then you know who attacked you," came Veronica's steely response.

Dave read the _oh, shit_ look that flickered across his master's face for a fraction of a second before the impassive mask once again snapped into place. Dave had to stifle a small smile, even with the seriousness of the situation. Only Veronica would ever be able to get Balthazar thrown off enough to make a mistake. And only she would be quick enough to spot it when he finally did.

Balthazar didn't bother trying to deny it again. He sighed, running his hands over his eyes, tiredly. Wincing again at sore muscles. "It doesn't matter if I know who it is or not," he finally responded, quietly. "I'm not telling you. You're _not_ going to get involved with this guy."

Dave stared at his master incredulously. Motioning to Veronica and himself in turn he responded quickly, "Um... wife... apprentice..." He pointed at the older sorcerer. "...Friend. Pretty sure we already _are_ involved, whether you like it or not..."

"Try '_master,_'"Balthazar growled, motioning sharply to himself. "And your _master_ says to uninvolve yourself, because you aren't going to help."

Dave opened his mouth to argue, but Balthazar cut him off. "This isn't some Drake Stone, Dave. He's not a magician who does parlor tricks and talks too much. Compared to _this_ guy, even Horvath is an amateur."

"And compared to _you_?"

Balthazar said nothing.

"Even more reason for us to help you, then."

"You're not—"

"_Stop it!_" Veronica barked, silencing them. Her dark eyes flashed as she looked them both over. "This isn't the time or place to discuss it. _Whoever_ attacked you" —she shot her husband an irritated look at that— "could decide to return at any time. I'd feel better if you were properly bandaged in a place that _we_ have warded, before that happens."

Dave winced at her hard expression, grateful that it wasn't directed at him. He pushed aside his irritation at the stubborn sorcerer in front of him long enough to nod. "Yeah. If this guy's that bad, then we'd better get out of here."

Balthazar silently nodded, walking away to scoop his leather coat up from where it had been thrown to the ground when the table had exploded. He threw it on and then approached Veronica, stopping before her and silently wrapping his arms around her and gently kissing her forehead.

Her lips were pressed into a tight line, obviously still upset. But after a moment, she sighed and reached up, bringing his face down to hers and kissing him gently on the lips. She pulled away, looking him in the eyes quietly for a moment before stating simply, "I'm still angry."

A faint smile graced his lips. "I know."

Dave cleared his throat awkwardly, picking up the pizza again, more as an excuse to not have to watch their public display of affection than anything else. For some reason whenever they started with that stuff, he felt like he was spying on his parents or something. It was just weird. "Can we get going?" he muttered. "The pizza's cold now. Do you guys want to bring it back to the apartment and heat it up while I stop at my place to get my stuff?"

Balthazar froze and turned back to his apprentice, just staring at him. "Your stuff?"

"Yeah," Dave replied, glancing up, startled. "Of course. I assumed I was staying with you for now."

His master just kept staring at him in that unnerving way. "Why, might I ask, are you staying with us?"

Dave's brow furrowed. This had seemed obvious. "Because there's a psycho after you and now you're defenseless without your ring."

Balthazar bristled. "I'm not defenseless, just unarmed."

"Same thing."

"Not really."

Dave took a step forward, frustrated. "Balthazar. If that guy comes back, then it will just be Veronica against him. Can she take him alone?"

The change on Balthazar's face was so immediate that it actually scared Dave a little. Something strange flashed in the man's eyes that answered the youth's question better than any words could have. No. Veronica couldn't win against whoever this was. And knowing that this guy could probably take down both Balthazar _and_ Veronica suddenly scared the shit out of him...

"Fine," his master finally growled, turning abruptly. "You can help ward the building. It's best if you don't go places alone for now, anyway. We'll all make the trip to your apartment together." Without even waiting for a response, Balthazar began walking swiftly toward the door. Veronica followed close behind.

When he got to the top of the stairs and noticed that Dave didn't appear to be moving, he snapped, "Are you coming?" in that unnaturally cold voice that the Pentagram seemed to have graced him with.

"Yeah," Dave replied quietly, and finally began moving again, still a bit unnerved by the expression on the older man's face. For a moment Balthazar's eyes had been haunted in a way that Dave hadn't seen since he'd recounted his story of Horvath's betrayal and Veronica's sacrifice. It was a horrible look that Dave had hoped he'd never have to see on his friend's face again.

He couldn't imagine what sorts of things this Morganian could have done to make Balthazar respond in such a way. He had a feeling that he really didn't want to know...

Quickly, Dave raced up the stairs to follow.

* * *

The trip to Dave's apartment was quick and nearly silent. By the time they left his dismal old building and were on their way back to Balthazar and Veronica's much cozier home, darkness was falling, and, although the older sorcerers didn't appear to be as concerned by it as Dave would have expected, that really didn't really make him feel any better. He knew that Balthazar was excellent at covering up emotions. And he suspected that Veronica was probably pretty good at it as well.

On the other hand, Dave was certain that he looked like he expected to be jumped at any moment during the entire walk. Surprisingly Balthazar hadn't commented on it beyond harshly snapping once, "Relax, for God's sake!" in a voice that still wasn't quite his own. Then again, Balthazar wasn't really acting like himself either. There was something dark in his expression and occasionally he seemed to be so drawn into his own thoughts that he appeared to lose track of everything around him. His blue eyes burned with a dark intensity at those times that Dave didn't like, and he found himself involuntarily backing off further and further.

When they finally entered the apartment, Balthazar bee-lined for his room, stating abruptly to no one in particular that he was going to dress his injuries and go to bed. To Dave's surprise, Veronica didn't follow, instead pulling him into the spare bedroom he used whenever he stayed over.

"Dave," she said softly, shutting the door quietly behind her. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Why?"

"You seem troubled."

The boy sighed, dropping to the bed behind him. "Of course I'm troubled. There's a lot to be troubled about, isn't there? I mean, this ring stuff is bad. And whoever that guy is, he has Balthazar freaked." He ran his hand through his dark hair, sighing deeply.

She nodded, sitting beside him, his worry reflected in her own eyes. "I know. I'm bothered by that as well. We fought wars together, Balthazar and I. And I can't remember ever having seen him react like this." She paused thoughtfully. "Of course, he's never been without his ring, either. At least not since I've known him."

Dave snorted. "Which is basically his whole life, by the sounds of it."

"Not his entire life," she responded with a small smile. "Only since I joined him and Merlin. He was young then, but he had already been training for a couple of years under our master at the time."

Dave raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? I guess I just sort of assumed you guys had all come as a packaged deal or something." He managed a faint smile of his own. "But now that I say it out loud, it sounds pretty stupid. Isn't like you're from the same family."

"Not stupid. Things were different back then. We don't expect you to understand everything at once."

Dave chuckled at that. "I doubt Balthazar would agree..."

His words were followed by a long silence before Veronica started again. "Balthazar's reaction to the ring isn't the only thing that's bothering you, is it?"

His eyes shot over to meet hers again. "He isn't acting like himself." He hesitated before adding. "Balthazar can be a real ass sometimes, but I've never seen him lose his temper like that. He's not really in control like he usually is."

"No," Veronica replied softly, hands clenched tightly in her lap. Eyes fixed firmly on a framed print of _The Lady of Shalott_ that hung on the wall in front of her. "No. He isn't."

"Any theories about that?"

"Besides the strain this has put on him?"

"Yeah. Besides the obvious." He studied her. "The Pentagram did something to him, didn't it?"

Her face hardly changed, but he'd been watching her critically as he'd learned to do with Balthazar. Waiting for any small waver in expression to betray her. His careful observation paid off. She'd flinched at those words. "Yes."

"Dammit." His brow furrowed. "But he'll be okay, right? Whenever it wears off?"

"He should be."

The boy raised an eyebrow at her. "He _should_ be? What do you mean he _should_ be? You don't _know_?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes serious. "Of course not. I can't know what the Pentagram did to him."

His expression was incredulous. "But he said you know what it's like." He floundered a moment, thinking back. Trying to remember. "Back when he was in there, and we were demanding answers. He asked you to get him out of there and said you knew what it was like to be inside."

"I do," she responded. "But it's different for everyone." Her eyebrows drew together further betraying her concern. "It feeds off of the darkness inside of us. So whatever happened to him in there depends on him."

Dave nodded, a touch relieved. "Couldn't have been that bad then..."

"Why do you say that?"

The boy smiled a little. "He's a jerk sometimes, but he's a good person. Can't be _that_ much darkness in him."

Her brown eyes were dark and if possible even more deadly serious than before. "We all have darkness in us, Dave. And he's been through a lot. Loss... betrayal... Not to mention over a thousand years of fighting alone. He _is_ a good person. But that's a lot of time to do things he could wind up regretting." She paused a moment, adding, "And a lot of time to dwell on the darkness in his past." With that she stood, saying quietly. "You should rest now. I know it's early, but maybe it would be a good idea if we all get some sleep..."

She'd already begun walking to the door when Dave spoke again. "You think he planned revenge or something?"

She stopped, her fingers resting lightly on the doorknob. Without turning, she responded simply, "Think of it this way. If Balthazar were to betray you and Becky nearly died as a result... What would _you_ do?" Before he had enough time to process that question, she pulled the door open and, with a soft good night, left the room, shutting his door behind her and leaving him to his thoughts.

* * *

It had taken Dave hours to fall asleep. He'd wound up tossing and turning. He'd tried reading. He'd tried coming up with—and solving—complicated scientific formulas in his head. He'd listened to Becky's entire radio show, and when that had ended, he'd wound up listening to over half of the songs on his iPod before the battery died and he had to charge it. After that, he'd just lain on his back, listening to the sounds on the street below: Horns honking, car doors slamming in the parking lot, sirens. Lots of sirens.

He'd gone to bed soon after Veronica had left his room—far earlier than usual—but he still didn't wind up falling asleep until late into the night. Or early into the morning, if he wanted to be technical. It had to have been one or two in the morning by the time things went black.

Even then, he didn't sleep well. It was as though his eyes were closed and his body still, yet he couldn't stop thinking. He could still hear the traffic and sirens of the street below in a vague, hazy sort of way. Could still feel the cool late spring breeze gusting gently in through his open window. And he kept seeing in his mind's eye that haunted look on his master's face. Could still hear the harshness in his voice as he snapped uncharacteristically at Veronica. Could still feel the worry deep in the pit of his own stomach.

And try though he might, he couldn't banish the uncomfortable image of his master spreading his hands before them to show them his missing ring. Couldn't erase the memory from several practices ago of his Balthazar standing powerless in the Merlin's circle, while Dave had watched.

Who needed nightmares? This half-wakefulness was bad enough.

He groaned and rolled over, covering his head with his pillow, half hoping that maybe if he smothered himself, he'd at least get a couple hours of good sleep before morning. Veronica would probably be able to revive him if he lost enough oxygen. He was getting desperate enough to try anyway...

He didn't get to finish the thought.

A terrifying sound cut through the apartment. Tearing Dave forcefully out of any semblance of sleep he'd attained. It sounded like a suffering animal. Or worse. His bleary mind at first couldn't comprehend what it could be. Where it was coming from...

Until he heard it a second time. He flung off his blankets and was already whipping the door open before the sound of the scream had even cleared his mind.

It had been the sound of pain and agony. Like something dying.

It had been Balthazar's voice.

* * *

_Author's Note: A big thanks to lolo popoki and Kaytori for their beta work! And a big apology for being so MIA lately. I'm hoping updates won't take as long now that RL has settled down a bit for me._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and please motivate me with reviews:P_

_God þē mid sīe! _

_Sirius  
_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Dave was two steps out the door when he realized that he'd left his ring on the bedside table. He was torn for a single indecisive moment, desperate to go and help his friend, yet at the same time knowing that whatever had caused a sound like that to tear out of Balthazar would be able to destroy Dave in a heartbeat if he couldn't focus. And in general, he still wasn't good enough to channel his magic consistently without the ring.

Cursing under his breath, he dove back into the room, fumbling around in the dark. Knocking the ring off the table and having to quickly grope around on the floor until his fingers touched the cold metal of the dragon. He jammed it onto his finger and leapt back to his feet, racing toward the door once again. It had all taken only a minute, but in that time the apartment had grown eerily quiet. The silence frightened Dave far more than the scream. Because he was afraid of what it might mean. The sound he'd heard had been horrifying. But at least you had to be alive to scream...

Dave gritted his teeth, forcing that thought to the back of his mind. _No. Just get to their room. Don't think. Just move._

He slipped out into the hallway, ring-hand raised, and hesitated again, pausing a moment to listen. What he _wanted_ to do was just burst into their bedroom and blast the hell out of whatever was in there, but he was afraid that he'd just make things worse. Or get himself killed, which would help no one.

_Stop thinking about it..._

Slowly, silently, he crept down the hall to the older sorcerers' room, listening all the time for sounds. He thought he heard voices. His heart fluttered in relief as he recognized one near the door. Veronica. Whatever had happened, it must be over. The good guys had won. They might even have gotten Balthazar's ring back.

So why didn't he feel better?

_Because Balthazar screamed, dammit._ And whether or not it was done and they were both still alive, the fact remained that someone Dave cared a great deal about had sounded like he... Dave paused. Actually, he couldn't even imagine what would have caused a sound like that. He didn't really want to.

He needn't have worried about imagining anything. At that moment the door slipped open and Veronica stepped out, shutting it quietly behind her. In the semi-darkness, she appeared to be okay.

Dave finally lowered his ring. "Veronica?"

She jumped, startled. Obviously she hadn't noticed him in the shadows. Her hand fluttered up to her heart. "Dave," she whispered so softly he could hardly hear. "What are you doing awake?"

"What am I...? Did you expect me to have slept..." he sputtered, then trailed off, staring past her at the door. Finally he burst out, "Are you _insane_? What _happened_ in there? I heard screaming."

At those words, Veronica's eyes widened and she murmured more to herself than to Dave. "Oh..." She glanced back at the door again. "We'd soundproofed the apartment when we moved in. I thought he'd done it room-by-room, but I guess it must have just been the perimeter of the apartment itself that he'd worked on." She looked concerned. "I'm sorry he woke you."

Dave stared at her as though she'd completely lost her mind. Maybe she had... He took her by the shoulders, gently, but firmly. "Veronica, listen to me. I don't _care_ if he woke me up. I'm _glad_ he woke me up. Maybe I can help. I just want to know what the hell is going on. What's wrong? Balthazar... Is he...?" He swallowed hard.

Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second before she glanced away. "He's fine, Dave. Just go back to bed."

He stared at her, trying to make eye contact, but she wouldn't look at him. He finally let go and stepped back, responding quietly but firmly. "No."

Her eyes shot up to his. "Dave... Just leave it. You don't understand."

He gritted his teeth in frustration. She was getting to be as bad as Balthazar. "Look, Veronica," he started, trying to stare her down. "I'm sorry, but no. I'm not leaving it. I'll let you guys talk me into believing a lot of things, but that scream," he pointed at the door for emphasis, "was _not_ fine. He might be all right _now_, but..." Dave winced, thinking back to the almost inhuman sound that had torn from his masters throat only minutes earlier. "We're talking about Balthazar here," he continued in a low voice. "He doesn't even flinch, let alone scream. But just now... He sounded like he was being murdered. Or tortured..." He floundered a moment. "Or _something_."

Even in the near-darkness, Dave could see her pale at those words.

The boy's stomach twisted into a knot at that. He narrowed his eyes, swallowing hard, and moved to walk past her. "If you're not going to explain, then I'm going in to check on him, myself."

"_No!"_ She grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

The distress in her voice caused him to freeze in his tracks far better than her attempt to physically stop him. He hesitated. "Veronica. I just want to see for myself that he's—"

"No." Her voice was strained, but she was starting to sound more like her old self. Less frightened and firmer. He should have gone when he'd had the chance. He didn't doubt she could easily stop him now that she seemed to be pulling herself together again.

"Why?"

She sighed. "He won't want you to see him like this, Dave. He has his pride. Just wait until morning. He'll be better then. I promise you. This isn't the first time..."

_Not the first time...?_ The sick feeling in Dave's stomach intensified. _How long has this been going on?_ He took a deep breath. "Okay, Veronica. I won't go in there if you promise to tell me what's going on. I have a right to know."

She studied him a moment before finally nodding. "Fine. Come with me. I'm making something to help him rest." With that, she took him by the arm and led him down the hall, away from his master's room.

With a parting glance at the silent door, Dave reluctantly followed. "Sleeping potion?"

"Tea."

_Of course..._

She flicked on the lights when they entered the kitchen, blinding Dave enough to send him stumbling into the table. He yanked out a chair and dropped into it, rubbing his eyes while Veronica smoothly maneuvered the kitchen as though the light weren't even bothering her. She ran the tap, filling the teakettle with water, and set it on the stove, heating up the burner and pulling out two cups. She paused and looked back at him. "Would you like some?"

_How the hell are we casually making tea right now?_ "Sure," he responded, abruptly. "Why not?" All he really wanted to do was check on his friend.

How was Veronica already over whatever had happened? Then Dave noticed her hands. As calm as she outwardly appeared, her hands were shaking so badly that she was having a difficult time measuring the dried tea into the cups.

"Well...?" he finally asked, unable to wait any longer.

She quickly closed the tea canister and put it away, and finally turned to face Dave again. She approached the table, and dropped into a second seat, wrapping a lock of her hair around her finger absently. Now that he could see her in the light, she looked terrible, and Dave felt bad for pushing. But dammit, he had a right to know. If Balthazar was in pain, he wanted to help, even if he could only do a little...

When he realized that she wasn't immediately going to offer information, he sighed. "Was he injured? Do you think that Morganian is doing something to him?" His voice lowered. "He sounded like he was in a lot of pain."

"No." She hesitated a moment longer before responding. "He's fine, Dave. He just has nightmares sometimes..."

"Nightmares?" He glanced back in the direction of the hall. "_That _was a nightmare?"

Her voice was almost a whisper. "He's been through a lot, Dave. More than you can even imagine. This afternoon was nothing..."

_Nothing..._ Burns. Wounds. Blood. That had been nothing? Then again, the man had lived through countless wars... And he'd faced Morgana directly more than once. Dave had seen what _she _could do to the man. "Yeah..." he managed to choke out. "I know. But, these dreams... they're bad enough to make him scream like _that_?" He thought back to the terrifying sound. To his own panic that his master was dying—or already dead—and he'd never be able to get there in time.

Her words from earlier suddenly jumped back out at him: _"We soundproofed the apartment when we moved in..."_

"He's had these nightmares for a long time, hasn't he?" Dave asked quietly. Horrified. Had his master been going through this during their training? While Veronica had still been confined to the Grimhold and _he_ had been too busy chasing Becky around the city to pay the crazy man in the trenchcoat much mind? How many centuries had Balthazar been struggling with this alone?

She nodded. "He doesn't have them as often as he used to, but he insisted we do it as a precaution. So the neighbors wouldn't hear." Her eyes were both worried and sad. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you. But I didn't think you'd be able to hear. I didn't want you to worry." She paused, and added as an afterthought. "And he didn't want you to know."

Dave grimaced. _No surprise there._ "Well, I'm worried," he muttered. Tentatively he added, "I guess it makes sense that he _would_ have some dreams like that. I guess I never really thought about it before." He sent Veronica a guilty look, feeling as though he should have realized immediately that this would be a problem. "That stuff with Horvath betraying you. And having to watch Merlin die. Having to seal you up... It probably haunted him for years..."

Veronica nodded, twisting the lock of hair even more tightly around her finger than before, so the tip of her finger was almost going white. "I'm sure that's a large part of it..."

Dave just blinked at her. "Part...?"

"These dreams aren't new," she replied softly. "He's had them since before we were betrayed." A dark pain flashed in her eyes at the memory. "He was taken once..."

Dave's jaw almost dropped. "Taken?" He shook his head. "You mean like... _captured_?"

"It was war, Dave. People were taken for information frequently. There were rules of warfare, of course, but Morganians certainly didn't follow them. People were captured. Most were broken. The lucky wound up dead within a couple of days..."

He swallowed hard. "And Balthazar...?"

She looked back up at him, and Dave was surprised to see that her eyes were glassy and red, as though she were holding back tears. "We were separated in a battle. At the end, Merlin, Horvath and I made it back to the castle. We expected to meet Balthazar there, but he never made it. The next morning, Horvath found his horse grazing near the stables." She clenched her fists. "We searched for him for a long time. Long enough that we were afraid..." She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "It was Merlin who finally managed to track and free him the minute Morgana dropped her guard." She closed her eyes at the memory. "He'd been missing for almost three weeks."

Dave felt like he was going to be sick. "Three weeks?" And the lucky were dead within a couple days...

"It was a miracle that he was still alive. Merlin wouldn't even let Horvath and I see him until he started to heal up." She shook her head. "It was bad."

Dave closed his eyes, struggling against the bile that was rising in his throat. Tortured. Balthazar had been tortured once. For weeks. Another wave of nausea struck him. With magic. His master was incredibly powerful... but he'd been a lot younger back then. And he was only human. He finally looked back up at her. "Did he ever say—?"

"No." Pain flickered in her eyes. "Never. He only told Merlin. But after that, he had nightmares. I'm not sure if he realized at the time that we could hear him, but no one mentioned it. He was suffering enough already without damaging his pride as well. It took him a long time to fully recover."

Dave glanced back toward where his master remained. "Doesn't sound like he ever really did... You sure it's okay to have left him?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I helped ease him into a dreamless sleep. It'll only last twenty minutes or so, but it should give him a chance to clear his mind. Hopefully the tea will help him rest after that."

As if on cue, the teakettle began whistling and Veronica stood to take it off of the burner, pouring the water into the three cups that she'd prepared.

Dave studied her. "So, what do you think triggered this? The Pentagram?"

She added a touch of honey to two of the cups, leaving the other plain. "I'd imagine so. I told you... it brings out any darkness inside of you."

"Yeah."

She finished stirring in the honey, and carried one cup over to Dave. "Here. Give it a couple of minutes to steep and it should be perfect."

He nodded, absentmindedly taking the saucer from her and almost spilling the hot contents on himself. He carefully dabbed up what he'd spilt with a napkin.

She managed a weak smile for him. "Balthazar will be his old self tomorrow. He always is. I wouldn't be surprised if he's over the effects of the Pentagram as well by then. I know it's hard to believe, but he's learned to cope with it. Humans can learn to adapt to almost anything, even things that are terrible."

"He shouldn't have to."

"But he still does," she replied simply. "Anyway, he'll be waking up soon. I want to be there for him. So, I'll see you in the morning."

Dave nodded. "Sure. Right."

She walked over to the counter and carefully picked up the other two cups of tea, carrying them toward the doorway. When she reached the hall, she paused. "Dave?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"I'd rather he not realize that you know about this..."

The youth's pained expression was earnest. "I won't tell him unless he asks. I don't even want to think about it, let alone talk to him about it..."

"Thank you. Good night, Dave."

"Night."

He took a sip of the tea, then, after a second sip, set the cup down hard on the delicate saucer and pushed it away. He still felt a little sick, unable to banish from his mind the image of a young Balthazar, possibly not much older than himself, broken and bleeding at Morgana's hands. Wanting nothing more than death, but surviving because he was too proud to die.

He could still hear the man's screams echoing in his mind. And he knew that tonight, Balthazar wouldn't be the only one having bad dreams...

* * *

_Author's Note: Okay, no horrible cliffy this chapter:) A great big thanks to Kaytori and lolo popoki for beta-ing this chapter. And a great big thanks to all of you readers out there. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_

_God þē mid sīe! _

_Sirius:)  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

Dave awoke the next morning from his fruitless attempt at sleep to the sound of someone banging on his bedroom door. He rolled over, covering his head with his pillow. "Go away," he moaned.

After he'd finished his tea, Dave had valiantly attempted to get back to sleep, but it had been as he'd expected. Every time he'd close his eyes, he'd see his master captured by Morgana who was doing god-knew-what to him. All he was sure of was that there was always a lot of blood and a lot of screaming. And each time he'd jerked awake, he'd wait for several long minutes straining to listen past the sounds of the street below to be sure that his master hadn't actually screamed again...

The night had dragged on forever, yet morning had still come too soon.

The banging on the door became more insistent, this time accompanied by a voice. "Dave, wake up. Veronica cooked, and if your eggs get cold, I'm eating them and not feeding you again until dinner."

"Balthazar?" Dave yanked the pillow off of his face and sat up. He sounded fine. Better than fine, actually. The effects of the Pentagram must have finally worn off of him. _Thank god..._

The was a brief pause. "Obviously. It's my apartment. Who else would it be?" Dave could picture the man rubbing his temples on the other side of the door. "Just get up. We have some work to do."

"Work?"

But the older man must have already walked away, because he didn't answer.

Dave threw off the covers and got out of bed, hauling his tote bag up onto the rumpled sheets, and digging out the first clothes he found: a wrinkled grey NYU hoodie and some jeans. He threw them on along with a pair of closely matching socks, then re-zipped the bag, tossing it back to the floor by the dresser. Stopping only to scoop his ring off of the nightstand, he finally left his room, making his way to the kitchen where the couple were already eating.

Balthazar turned at his approach, eyeing him for a moment before shaking his head. "Forget to pack a comb? Or has Becky dragged you into the sparkly vampire trend, too?"

Dave stifled a yawn and didn't bother answering that, studying his master as he dropped into an empty chair before a steaming plate of food. However bad Dave felt, he was pretty sure that Balthazar was worse. The man may have sounded better, but he looked like hell. He was pale with dark circles under his eyes. The absolute exhaustion on Balthazar's face made him look older. And his apprentice hated it. Dave had a funny feeling that Veronica's tea hadn't had its desired effect. Though Dave wasn't really surprised. He remembered how miserable his _own_ night had been. And it had only been his imagination keeping him awake. Actual memories were bound to be worse...

"Don't you have classes, today?" Veronica asked while he ate.

Dave shook his head, swallowing a large mouthful of scrambled eggs that he'd shoved into his mouth all at once. He immediately began to cough and sputter.

"Try chewing first," Balthazar suggested unhelpfully, taking a sip of his coffee. A small smile played at his lips.

Dave guzzled some of his orange juice, shooting a deadly glare in his master's direction. "Ha. Ha," he replied dryly. Then he turned his attention to Veronica who was still waiting for an answer. "It's Thursday. I only have my stupid Lit class, and that isn't until four."

Veronica appeared relieved. "Good. I wasn't sure if we should wake you."

Dave smiled, returning to his eggs. "You should have asked Balthazar. He has my schedule memorized." He shot the older man a grin. "How else could he properly stalk me if he didn't?"

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "I only follow you when people want to kill you."

"Which will probably be for the rest of my life."

"Then I'd suggest you get used to it."

The banter put Dave's mind somewhat at ease. It was almost as though the day before hadn't happened. Maybe it hadn't. Maybe everything had just been a weird series of dreams. And for no real reason, Balthazar just happened looked like death warmed over this morning.

_Yeah, right._

As if on cue, Balthazar reached across the table for the salt and pepper just then exposing his very ringless hand, forcing Dave to face reality. They still had a _very_ big problem.

"How are you doing today, Balthazar?"

The older man froze, glancing over at his apprentice. "Excuse me?" he asked, his voice suddenly tight.

Dave quickly motioned to Balthazar's hand. "The ring stuff. And all of the injuries. And the... the... thing..." He made a star motion with his hand.

Balthazar's expression didn't change, but the tension in his shoulders eased. "I'm fine. It wore off sometime last night. And the injuries weren't as bad as they looked."

Dave somehow didn't believe that, but he knew better than to push it. "Oh. Okay... Good."

They ate for a few more minutes in awkward silence before Dave spoke again. "So, you—uh—you said we had some 'work' to do or something?"

Veronica stood, plate in hand, reaching for Balthazar's now empty plate as well. "Yes," she responded. "I need you to help me ward the apartment."

"Wait." Dave stared at her in confusion. "Didn't you and Balthazar do that when you moved in? Why do you need _me_?"

"Because," his master cut in, "someone has my ring, and that could help him break the wards down more easily. It's like handing someone a list of possible numbers to crack a code. With my ring, it's much easier for him to tear down wards that _I've_ set. So, Veronica's stripping what we've got and resetting them."

"So, why do you need _me_?"

"Because two layers of wards are safer," she responded. "It won't be too difficult. We'll do it while Balthazar washes the dishes." She sent him a smile and carried the plates into the kitchen.

The older man took another swig of his coffee and then stood, making ready to follow her. "And as soon as you finish here, you and I are going to the lab to do the same thing. That should be quicker. Veronica said your wards last night had only been temporary, so she apparently set some stronger ones when we'd left. They were pretty quick and basic, but they're solid. You just need to put a layer on top and seal them."

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He took another sip of his juice. "So, we're setting up protection, but what are we doing about your ring?"

Balthazar's eyes darkened. "Leave that to me," he replied simply.

"Not happening." At his master's glare, he added, "And you know that Veronica's going to say the same thing. Like it or not, we kind of don't want to see you die."

"There's nothing you can do, Dave." Balthazar's voice had a warning tone to it. "And I don't intend to die."

Dave was silent for a long moment. "Can I at least lend you this?" He held out the dragon ring to his master.

Balthazar just stared at him for a moment, his face expressionless. Then a faint flicker of a smile lit upon his lips for a moment as he reached for his apprentice's offering. Taking the heavy ring, he slipped it onto his index finger, closed his eyes, and motioned with his hand to levitate the coffee cup in front of him.

Nothing happened.

"Thank you," he replied in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. "But it won't work." He handed the ring back to his stunned apprentice.

"_Why_?"

"Because it's not mine."

"It worked for Horvath."

Balthazar lifted his cup the old-fashioned way and drained the rest of his coffee. "Yes," he replied, "and Horvath used it to augment the power his own ring drew from him. But he still had his ring. It was like multiplying his own focus by a hundred."

Dave ran his hands through his uncombed hair. "But you can't do that, because...?"

"Because Horvath still _had_ his ring, so there was something to multiply. I have no ring, so it wouldn't matter if you multiply what I have by a thousand. I have nothing, so that's what I'm still left with."

Dave sighed deeply. "That sucks."

Balthazar shrugged. "You want convenience and happy endings? Go watch a Disney movie. This is real life." His expression darkened as he added, "And sometimes real life sucks." He grabbed Dave's now-empty juice glass. "You done with this?" he asked.

Dave nodded, passing his plate over as well. "Yeah. This too. Thanks."

"I'll send Veronica out, and you can get started. And make yourself comfortable, because you're going to be at it for awhile."

Dave blinked up at his master in surprise. "Veronica just said it wasn't hard."

Balthazar snorted. "Easy doesn't mean quick. She and I spent ages just setting up standard wards when we first moved in." He sent his apprentice a hard look. "And with you and Veronica _both_ living here for the time being, these aren't going to be anywhere near basic."

"Goody," Dave muttered under his breath, eliciting a small smile from his master as the man walked away. But Dave had to admit, even if this was all Balthazar would allow him to do at the moment, it was something. And, especially after last night, he would do whatever he could to help.

* * *

Balthazar had been right. It had taken forever to actually set up wards that both Veronica and Balthazar were satisfied with. Surprisingly, it had been Veronica who had been the worst slave driver in this endeavor. Balthazar had spent most of the time doing dishes, and then after having criticized Dave's attempts a few times, had left the room. It had taken the boy some time before he figured out why. His master didn't like watching them do the work. He was used to doing everything himself...

By the time it was done, it had been three hours, and was already eleven o'clock. Dave was exhausted, resting for a bit while his master tested the wards.

After what seemed like ages, the man finally nodded. "They're solid. No one's going to get through them without one of us knowing."

Dave raised an eyebrow, trying to think of the most tactful way to ask the question that had been nagging at him. Coming up with nothing, he just bluntly asked. "How do you know?"

Balthazar raised an eyebrow at him. "How do I know what?"

"That they're solid. How can you tell?"

His master crossed his arms, shooting Dave an annoyed look. "You know how to test a ward. I _taught_ you how to test a ward."

"But how can _you_ do it right now?" Dave emphasized, internally flinching as he expected his master to snap at the not-so-subtle reminder of his ringlessness.

"It doesn't take a ring to test a ward, Dave. A man with bad eyesight doesn't suddenly go blind when he loses his glasses. He can still sense light, even if he can't make anything out. I'm just sensing what's around me. I know what to look for." He smirked at Dave's confusion. "I didn't lose my magic. I just can't focus it on anything. But there are still things I can do withit. Like I told you before. I'm not defenseless. Only unarmed." He scooped his heavy coat off of the chair where it had been resting and threw it on. "Now. You've had a breather. Let's go."

Dave groaned and hauled himself to his feet, knowing better than to try to argue the point with the man. "Right. Can we at least drive?"

"Planned on it. The car's got some enchantments on it, so it should be relatively safe while it's in motion. Even if he used my ring would take him too long to break those enchantments down before we were out of there. Anyway, it's a good idea to have the car in case we need to leave quickly."

Dave grinned. "There's a shocker. You admit I had a good idea."

Balthazar snorted. "It was _my_ idea. You just didn't want to walk." He ignored the sour expression on his apprentice's face at those words. "Grab a jacket. It's cold outside. And keep your ring on your finger at all times."

His master's subtle paranoia sobered up Dave's mood immediately. Balthazar was still worried. Very worried. It was too easy to forget that Balthazar played it cool very well, even under extreme stress. But this was very, very bad.

The youth simply nodded, grabbing his jacket from where he'd tossed it the night before, and slipping it on. "Right."

Balthazar shouted a quick goodbye to Veronica, patted himself down to be sure he had his keys, cell phone, wallet, and reading glasses, then led the way out of the apartment.

"You looked like my grandpa back there," Dave commented, trying to lighten up the mood a little. "Afraid you'd forget something?"

"I'm not used to bothering with most of it," his master responded testily. He glanced back at his apprentice, abruptly changing the subject. "You remembered the ring?"

Dave sighed. "Geez, Balthazar. _Yes_. I remembered the ring."

Balthazar stopped in his tracks, almost causing his apprentice to crash into him, then turned on the boy. "Don't 'Geez, Balthazar' me. Whether I like it or not, if we get attacked, _you_ are the only one who can hold up a shield if we need it. And we both know your magic's stronger with the ring." His blue eyes were hard and sharp as blades.

Dave nodded silently, surprised by the intensity in the older man's voice. He was starting to feel like they'd be facing Morgana, herself. And it was starting to scare the shit out of him.

Balthazar turned away. "Good. As long as we understand each other." He began walking again, reaching the elevator and jamming the button hard, as though it were personally responsible for his sudden bad mood. Dave was just grateful that he seemed to be taking his aggression out on the electronics.

The ride downstairs was conducted in an awkward silence. When they finally reached the car, Balthazar dug out his keys, grumbling a bit as he looked for the right one. Finally he found the one he needed and opened the door, getting in and reaching across the seat to unlock the passenger door as well.

Dave hopped in, slamming the door behind him and put on his seatbelt. "You should really invest in one of those automatic keys, Balthazar," he said, his voice ringing with false cheer. Trying to lighten up the mood for what felt like the hundredth time. "Then you won't have to spend ten minutes trying to find the right one."

His master snorted. "When do I ever use the keys?" was his only response before putting the car into gear and squealing out of the parking garage while Dave held on for dear life.

Dave felt like his life had only just finished flashing before his eyes by the time they reached the lab. Apparently anger and irritation gave Balthazar a lead foot. Dave practically crawled out of the car when they finally arrived. And he would probably have kissed the ground if he hadn't figured that it would only piss Balthazar off enough to make the return trip even more terrifying. As it was, he just slammed the door shut a little shakily and turned to see his master hauling a long, narrow box out of the back seat.

"What's that?" Dave asked as the older man slammed the door shut, causing the box to make a loud clanking noise.

"Just some stuff from the shop that I want to store here," he replied, shifting the box uncomfortably under his arm. It looked heavy.

Dave took a step forward. "You want some help with that?"

"No. Just catch the door."

Dave nodded and hurried ahead. He paused at the door, and before Balthazar could even open his mouth, called back to him, "Veronica's wards are still here. We're fine."

"Good." There was a touch of amusement in the older man's voice. Dave was learning.

When they got inside, Dave locked the door behind them while Balthazar carried his odd package down the stairs and set it near the control cage.

Dave clattered down the stairs behind him. "So, Balthazar. Want to tell me why you're suddenly storing things for the shop in my lab? Your storage unit get too full? Because that might be a sign to just finish renovating and re-open the place."

Balthazar didn't answer right away, kneeling beside the box and rifling through it a bit before closing it loosely and sliding it flush against the cage. "Most of the stuff from the shop are trinkets," he replied. "I don't care what happens to them. But a few of the things have power, and they need to be in well-warded areas. I am not putting wards on a storage unit. So, things that matter generally wind up in the apartment."

"And this wasn't apartment-worthy?"

"The apartment's getting pretty full unless you want me to start loading up your room." He stood, brushing off his knees. "And before you start with the twenty questions, Dave. No, this isn't exciting stuff. You can look through it if you like. Like I said, I keep the powerful items at home. These things are just expensive. Might as well put it here if we're going to ward the place. Safer than a storage unit and a padlock."

Dave just shook his head. "You come up with the weirdest times to worry about stuff like that."

"Just start on the wards," was Balthazar's only response. "We need to get done early enough for you to eat and get to class."

"Right."

"And make them strong," Balthazar added quietly. "He's gotten in here once and left his mark. I don't want him tainting the Circle again."

Dave just nodded and pulled a chair up to the bottom of the stairs. After making himself comfortable, he got started with the slow, complicated process of weaving his own protections through Veronica's. Then there was the added frustration from an annoying buzz of energy that was humming in the background of it all. Like wasps hovering around his mind whenever he got too involved. After about half an hour of trying to ignore it, he turned back to Balthazar who was trying to clean up some of the previous day's mess. Dave noted that he was giving the charred rut left by the Pentagram wide berth. "Balthazar?"

His master looked up. "What?"

"I'm having issues with this."

The man's brows furrowed. "With what?" He tossed a few chunks of charred wood into the crate he'd been using for rubbish, and approached his apprentice.

Dave shook his head. "I don't know what it is. There's just something off about the wards."

"They aren't sticking?" He stepped forward, hand outstretched flat in front of him to test them.

"No. They're sticking fine. It just feels like something else is there, too."

Balthazar froze, then abruptly withdrew his hand. "It's the remnants of _his_ wards."

Dave blinked. "I thought Veronica cleared those."

Balthazar shook his head. "No. She just broke them down. She thought they were mine, remember?" He sighed. "Just do the best you can. If yours are tight enough, he won't be able to work his way through anyway. I'll just ask Veronica to come over later when you're in class and clear them out. She's good with breaking down magic."

"Okay." Dave turned back to his work. "It's just an annoying feeling. Starts getting into your head."

"I know."

There was a long, awkward silence after that as Dave worked. Balthazar went back to his clean-up.

It was awhile before the man spoke again. "How did you sleep last night?"

Dave paused, responding carefully. "Fine, I guess."

"You sure? Because you look like hell today."

"Gee, thanks. You're looking pretty fantastic yourself, Balthazar."

Balthazar approached his apprentice, dragging a chair over to Dave's and sitting down. He crossed his arms and leaned back, quietly observing the last stages of his apprentice's work. "I know you heard," he commented suddenly.

Dave gritted his teeth and put more of his focus into weaving the magic. "Heard what?" he muttered.

"Dave."

"Really," he continued. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're trying to lie again, Dave. Badly."

The youth sighed deeply, finishing up his work. Grateful that just adding to a ward took far less time than building one from scratch. He flopped back in his chair. "I'm done," he announced.

"I'm the one who soundproofed the apartment, Dave," the man continued as though Dave hadn't spoken. Obviously the older man had no intention of letting the topic drop. "And I'm well aware of the fact that I never got around to doing specific rooms."

Dave sighed deeply. "Fine. I heard you." He shut his eyes, leaning his head back. "We don't have to talk about it." He cracked an eye at his master. "I know you don't want to."

"I'm the one who brought it up." At Dave's startled look, he clarified. "I'd like to know how much Veronica told you."

"How do you know she told me anything?" his apprentice asked carefully.

Balthazar smiled faintly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You didn't burst into the room last night, shouting threats at a non-existent enemy while trying not to trip in the dark."

"Right. Of course." Dave turned to look at him, his eyes serious. "She told me it was a bad dream." He winced. "And she told me why you have them."

He paused, expecting some sort of response from the other man, but his face remained unreadable. "It's not her fault," Dave added, worried by his master's silence. "I pressured her into explaining."

"It's fine." Balthazar suddenly sounded as tired as he looked.

Dave narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "It's fine? Since when are you okay with talking about your past without coaxing?"

"You're my apprentice."

Dave's expression didn't change. "And what happened to 'I'm your master. I don't have to tell you anything?'"

"You usually _want _to know." He snorted. "Anyway, I have a right to know what Veronica told you. It isn't like I'm offering up details."

"Good," Dave responded awkwardly. "This time I don't want any. At least, not any more..."

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "Because...?"

"_Because_," Dave replied more sharply than he'd intended, "you're my friend, Balthazar. And my _friend_ sounded like he was being murdered last night. I'm not all that creative a person and I was still up all night imagining what they did to you."

"You're being melodramatic again, Dave."

The boy finally burst out, "You were _tortured_, Balthazar."

His master wouldn't make eye contact at those words. "Centuries ago."

"And you're _still_ having nightmares about it. I don't even want to think about what kinds of things they must have done for it to still affect you _centuries_ later."

"Then don't," Balthazar responded shortly.

"I'm _trying _not to. But, you're my friend. I can't help it."

Balthazar's sharp eyes flashed. "I'm you master. And your master says to forget about it." He glanced away, responding in an oddly quiet voice. "Anyway, you're right. You don't _want _to know." With those words, he stood and walked back to the mess he'd been cleaning up earlier.

Dave watched him, feeling guilty. Why the hell had he snapped when Balthazar had only been trying, for once, to be a little more open with him? _Because I really don't want to know,_ he answered himself. _Because what I've already imagined will give me nightmares for months. _Still... it hadn't been fair to Balthazar. Especially with all he'd been going through in the past twenty-four hours.

Dave took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said in a calmer voice. "I'm just worried." He sighed heavily. "That's no excuse. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Balthazar didn't respond.

Dave hesitated. "Balthazar?"

"Relax." His master shrugged, not even pausing in what he was doing, and replied, "It's over. I brought it up. I got what I deserved." Dave didn't miss the odd tone to Balthazar's voice.

"What you deserved..." Dave muttered, frustrated both at himself and at the odd mood swings that Balthazar seemed to be suffering from lately. "Like always, right?"

At those words, Balthazar looked up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Excuse me?"

The youth sighed deeply. "Look, Balthazar. You push too hard. And you can be a real ass." He paused, trying to ignore the flash of annoyance in his master's eyes at that little addition. More quietly, he added, "But you don't deserve all of the crap you always seem to get."

"No one deserves _everything _they get, Dave."

"Yeah." The boy looked up at him. "But is there any hell that you _haven't_ lived?"

Balthazar shrugged. "That's the price of immortality."

Dave snorted at that. "Law of probability says that good things should happen to you just as often. Especially over that much time."

A trace of Balthazar's old smile flickered onto his face at that. "And Law of Murphy says 'Bad shit happens. Deal with it.'"

Dave glared at that. "Balthazar," he grumbled, "I've had bullies less annoying than you. You know that, right?"

His master chuckled, his old grin now firmly planted on his face, to the youth's relief. "Now, _there's_ the Dave I know." He tossed a couple more charred chunks of debris into a crate.

Dave awkwardly looked away, studying the cleared off space on the floor, finally understanding what his master had been doing all that time. He'd been clearing off the Merlin's Circle.

Balthazar brushed his hands off on his black vest. "You're going to have to skip any training in the Temporal Domain for now, not that I like you messing much with that one anyway."

Dave just blinked at him. "What?"

"That's where the Circle was breached. I'm not letting you stand there, so it's off limits until we can completely lift the Pentagram."

"Can that thing still hurt you, even if it's not activated?"

But his master didn't answer, stating in a clipped voice, "Just stay away from it. Now, pack up. I think you left your Literature book here yesterday, so you'd better grab it. I need to get a couple more things from my car, and then we can get going. Decide what you want for lunch." He began walking away. "Not pizza," he added before heading up the stairs.

Dave sighed as Balthazar reached the top and slipped out the door. He walked to the small room at the back of the lab. Back before Veronica had been freed, this had been where Balthazar had slept while Dave had tried to lead his "normal" life. Now it was mostly used for storage, though Dave occasionally studied in there when Bennet was having a "hot date night" and Balthazar was using the main room for his own practice. Dave clicked on the light. Sure enough, the book was sitting right where he'd left it. "Stupid Gen Ed class," he muttered, hefting the thick text, and clicking the light back off behind him.

He was halfway across the room, skirting the Pentagram, when there was a knock at the door. He froze.

"Who is it?" he asked, warily. Would Balthazar's attacker be crazy enough to just knock and expect entrance?

"It's me," came a familiar voice. "Open the door."

"Balthazar?" He hurried to the door, unlocking and opening it. "Forget your key?" He smiled faintly at the memory of his master patting himself down.

Balthazar stood outside the door looking unimpressed. "No, David. The wards are too tight," was his only response as he stepped in.

Dave groaned, turning to walk down the stairs again. "Can you just let Veronica fix that? I don't think I can handle another hour of tweaking things."

Balthazar didn't answer, just following Dave down the stairs. The youth turned and shot him a look. "So, where's the stuff you were bringing in?" he asked, before moving to grab his jacket from the chair he'd left it on.

"You really are just like your master, aren't you, boy?" came a clipped British voice from behind him.

Dave whipped around just in time to see Balthazar ready a plasma bolt in his hands, and blast it in his direction.

* * *

_Author's Note: Nice long chapter this time. I hope you like it. Thanks to lolo popoki, Kaytori and FrostPhoenix for their beta work. And, as always, thanks to all of you for reading. Please review!_

_God þē mid sīe! _

_Sirius  
_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

The attack came out of nowhere. It should have come as a surprise—should have easily taken Dave down—except that Balthazar did this to him all the time, and Dave had learned to respond without thinking. The second he saw the bolt in his master's hands, Dave pulled up his shield, deflecting the attack, then readied a plasma bolt of his own, barely managing to hold up a weak shield as well. He still hadn't perfected the process of attacking and defending at the same time. It wasn't until he stood there, face-to-face with his attacker, did his mind even manage to process what had just happened. This obviously wasn't his master. Yet he was wearing Balthazar's ring. Which meant that this was the sorcerer who had managed to disarm him.

Dave gritted his teeth. This guy was the whole reason they'd set up wards. And Dave had just let him in past them. Balthazar was going to kill his apprentice when this was over. If this psycho didn't manage to do it first.

Then a worse thought struck him. Where _was_ Balthazar? Had they already had it out on the street? As disturbing as that image was, he had to force his focus back to the situation at hand.

The man had already formed another plasma bolt, his eyes flashing like icy daggers obviously angered by the youth's quick deflection of his attack, but for some reason was holding his second blast at bay. He simply stood there, a few feet from Dave, his lips now curling in to a cold smile even as the irritation burned through Balthazar's blue-grey eyes. It was strange to see a look like that on his master's face.

"Who _are_ you? And what do you want?" Dave growled, trying to appear intimidating. Hoping to god that he didn't just look scared.

The man laughed, wiping one hand over his face, as he held the bolt with the other. Immediately Balthazar's form melted away, leaving instead a tall, dark-haired man with ice-blue eyes. He appeared young. Probably a good decade younger than Balthazar, but his clothes were a century or so outdated, implying a greater age, and somehow managing the impossible task of making even Balthazar appear modern in comparison. "Who am I?" His eyes gleamed like a dangerous predator playing with its prey before the kill. "Balthazar didn't tell you?" His cold smile spread. "How tactless of him. His master taught him better than that." He paused a moment at those words before calling out a bit louder. "Didn't he, old man?"

_Old man? What?_ Dave looked up to see Balthazar standing silently at the top of the stairs, glaring daggers at the man below. His momentary relief that the Merlinian wasn't injured was immediately stifled by the look on the man's face. Dave had never seen him appear as dangerous as he did now. Even against Horvath.

Dave opened his mouth to speak when the look on his master's face suddenly changed from anger to alarm, taking him by surprise. "Dave, look out!"

But the warning came too late. Dave was thrown backwards by the close-range bolt that his attacker shot at him in his moment of distraction. "Foolish boy," the man sneered. "Like I said, you're just like your master. I'd have thought you'd have taught him better, Balthazar. First he lets me in. Now he drops his guard." He raised an eyebrow. "Though I suppose I'll have to admit that he responded quickly enough to my first attack. Perhaps he's not a completely hopeless case." A small ball of flame burst to life in his hand.

Dave lay on the floor, flat on his back, barely managing to pull up another weak shield, too drained by the last attack to manage much more without getting himself fried. He cursed himself for his stupidity. If they got out of this, he didn't doubt that his training was going to make hell look like spring break in Cancún.

He kept his eyes focused on the Morganian this time even as he heard his master's feet on the stairs. "Leave him be, Jacobus. You came to pick a fight with me. I'm here and I'm unarmed. Just let him go." He'd made it to the base of the stairs, but had stopped there. "You have my ring and my apprentice. What do you expect me to do?" He began walking forward, hands in the air.

"Take one more step," Jacobus snarled, "and I'll kill the boy on the spot." His eyes flashed, and the flame flared up in response. "And I'll make sure it's slow and painful. I hear burning to death is one of the worse ways to go."

Balthazar froze.

Jacobus's eyes narrowed. "What do I expect you to do in this situation? I've no idea. That all depends on how much you care about this little wretch, though the fact that you stopped moving implies at least _some_ concern. But I know better than to assume anything with you. And we both know that sometimes a master has to throw his apprentice to the wolves to further his cause. Don't we, old man?"

"Morganians, maybe," Dave snarled, trying to defend his master. "Balthazar isn't like that. He wouldn't just let someone die."

Balthazar gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Dave. You aren't helping."

But at Dave's words, Jacobus had begun to laugh. "Oh, Balthazar, that's just adorable. And I think he actually _believes_ it. Did _you _convince him of that? Tell me, when did you learn how to lie?" His laughter abruptly stopped, and his smile faded to a sneer. "Or did you choose to forget just how many people you've murdered in your long life? My _wife_, for example." His voice had changed to a low snarl.

It took everything in Dave to keep his eyes from shooting over to his master's face. _Stay focused, Dave. He's trying to distract us. To scare me and piss off Balthazar._ "It was war," the youth said quietly, thinking back to Veronica's words. He struggled to keep his voice level. "I've killed, too." He swallowed as the full import of that sunk in. Something he'd never fully allowed himself to consider before this moment. "I killed Morgana."

There was slight motion behind his attacker. Balthazar had slowly moved his hand into his pocket. Dave forced himself to keep his eyes on the man in front of him.

Jacobus didn't notice the man's movement this time. "Yes," he hissed. "You killed Mogana Le Fay. An impressive triumph against evil." His voice was laced with sarcasm. "But your master didn't just kill dangerous Morganians... did you, Balthazar? Men, women..." He paused there a moment. "I think you may have drawn the line at children, though it's hard to remember. Your body count was rather high back then. I've lost track."

"Jacobus..." Balthazar's own voice had dropped to a low growl.

That wicked gleam flashed once more in the Englishman's eyes. "Oh yes. Merlinians, too. Quite a few in fact..." he smiled. "And I think that one gent wasn't even a sorcerer."

"Enough!" Balthazar roared, not bothering to argue, his hand whipping out of his pocket, throwing something into the air, directly at Jacobus. "Dave!" he snapped. "Run!"

Jacobus moved to attack just as a bright flash erupted around him followed by a thick cloud of smoke. His plasma bolt shot into the air, just missing Dave's head as the youth rolled out of the way and got to his knees.

Dave shot off a blast of his own, uncertain if he even hit his target, as he scrambled to his feet and ran. Surprisingly, Jacobus didn't set off another blast.

As soon as Dave made it to the stairs, Balthazar moved out his apprentice's way, snapping, "Go! Get to the car!" He yanked the keys out of his pocket and slapped them into his apprentice's hand, giving him a little shove.

Dave hesitated. "Aren't you coming—?"

"Get out of here, Dave," his master snapped, "or so help me, Jacobus will be the least of your problems!"

"Are you _insane_? Balthazar, I'm not leaving without you! You can't take him like this!"

Balthazar grabbed Dave by the collar of his hoodie and practically threw him up the stairs. "When your master tells you to go, then you _move, _dammit! I know what I'm doing."

Dave hit the lower steps, surprised by his master's sudden aggression. After one more indecisive moment, Dave realized that his presence was only going to cause his master further distraction, and he finally flew up the stairs toward the door. He refused to run and hide in the car, though, not when Balthazar was in danger. He stopped just outside, keeping the door open a crack, fully intending to listen in case Balthazar needed him. Punishment be damned, he wasn't going to let his master die to save him. Especially not at the hands of _this_ sick creep.

Surprisingly, the sound of fighting didn't commence. Instead he heard the soft sound of laughter and Jacobus's voice quietly mocking the Merlinian. "Are we resorting to parlor tricks now? Flash powder and smoke bombs? Really?"

"Seemed to work well enough," Balthazar responded tightly.

"If I had wanted him dead, he'd have been nothing more than a corpse before you'd even realized I was here," Jacobus hissed. "I only came to play with him a little. Maybe share a bit of knowledge. I mean, I certainly don't like to be the one who destroys the boy's delusions about his master's greatness. Everyone needs something to believe in. Even if that something _is_ someone like you. But really, Balthazar, don't you think it's about time he knows? A master shouldn't lie to his apprentice."

"You should talk. You feed on lies. I've never told him anything that isn't true."

"But did you tell him everything, old boy?" There was a pause, and Dave could imagine that cold smile gracing his lips once again. "I didn't think so. We're cut from the same cloth, you and I. It's time your little apprentice knows that."

"What do you want, Jacobus?" The Merlinian's voice was cold and level.

"Oh, no, old man. That's not how this game works. You'll have to figure things out for yourself." Jacobus's next comment was so quiet that Dave had to strain to hear. "How the great fall. It will be nice watching you squirm."

"Do I look like I'm squirming?" Balthazar snapped.

There was a moment of utter silence before Jacobus continued. "You're a smart boy, Balthazar. You always were. I don't doubt you'll piece things together soon enough. And once you do, you _will_ squirm. Trust me. You will..."

There was another moment of silence before he heard a loud clattering on the stairs. Balthazar whipped the door open, his eyes on fire, and nearly crashed into Dave who had been unable to get out of the way quickly enough.

There was a dangerous energy practically flowing out of the man. His eyes flashed and an angry muscle worked in his jaw. For a single moment Dave was actually afraid. Then Balthazar shut his eyes, taking one deep breath, then another, and in a deceptively calm voice said, "Dave. I told you to get in the car."

"You couldn't win against him, Balthazar. I wasn't going to leave you in there to die."

The man's face suddenly looked tired. "You're an idiot. You know that, right?"

At Dave's silence he continued. "You let him in. You allowed him take you by surprise. You directly disobeyed my orders."

Dave winced. "I know. I'm sorry. But how was I supposed to know it was him? It isn't like we have a special knock." He sighed. "Look, I know I'll have to do extra chores and let you beat me up in training after we get your ring. I get it. In fact, I'm okay with it. I just didn't want you to—"

With those words, Balthazar's temper flared again. "No. You _don't_ get it." he snapped. "This isn't about extra training and chores. This is about your _life_. If he'd wanted you dead, I wouldn't have been able to protect you. Do you understand this? It isn't like before. I don't have a ring, and he isn't easily distracted _or_ fooled. One solid hit and you would have died and there's nothing I could have done to stop him." His expression was fierce. "If you _ever_ disobey me again, you will get a clear idea of what I can do, do you understand me? You think training is bad? You have no idea what I'm capable of." He began walking. "Let's get back to the car. I'm going to have Veronica come and set the wards herself, so you can't allow anyone access. It isn't as good to have one person do it, but apparently I can't trust you to follow my orders."

Dave winced at his master's harsh words, trying not to take it too badly. He deserved it, after all. "But what about—?

"Gone. He moved the bricks, and went through the wall to an adjacent room. We don't have time to hunt him down. Let's just go."

Dave simply nodded and followed his master in silence to the Phantom.

Balthazar unlocked the passenger door for him and then went around the car to his own side and got in, clicking the lock behind him. He took another deep breath before starting the engine. Some of the anger seemed to have faded from his eyes, and Dave risked speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Balthazar."

"Sorry wouldn't have kept you alive."

"What do you _want_ me to say?"

"Nothing," he growled. "Just shut up and put your belt on."

Dave complied just as Balthazar hit the gas.

The silence only lasted a minute, before it became too uncomfortable for Dave to handle. His master had never been this angry at him before. He didn't want the man to lose faith in him over one moment of extreme idiocy. Worse, he was suddenly starting to understand exactly what had been at stake. Not only his own life, but Balthazar's as well. Because whether or not that Jacobus guy believed it, Dave knew that Balthazar would never have let him die. "I won't disobey again." He closed his eyes, thinking back to his master's injuries from the day before. The haunted look he'd had in his eyes. _Unless that you try to take on that whack job alone, _he mentally added. _Cause I'm not letting you down. You've been through enough already..._

Balthazar only snorted in response.

"I mean it." He paused. "I don't want you to hate me."

There was a pause before his master sighed deeply, and it was as though the rest of his anger finally flowed out of him, leaving him with nothing more than exhaustion. "I don't hate you," he grumbled, his voice dead tired. "I'm pissed at your absolute _stupidity _and your inability to follow very simple instructions... but I don't hate you." He paused a long moment, then asked, "You really managed to block him at close range?"

Dave nodded.

"Good job." He glanced sideways at his apprentice. "I wish I could have seen the look on his face. That had to have unnerved him."

"I only managed it because I'm used to you randomly attacking me on a daily basis."

"And why do you think _that_ is?"

Dave just stared at him, suddenly understanding. "I always assumed it was for your entertainment."

"I noticed how much more quickly you respond to the unexpected. Especially if it hurts." Balthazar finally managed a faint smile. "And it does also entertain me."

Dave rolled his eyes, finally relaxing a touch now that his master had cooled off. "Right." He paused, then asked, trying to change the subject, "So, what was that stuff you used back there?"

Balthazar glanced sideways at his apprentice. "Smoke screen and flash powder. The stuff illusionists use to blind the audience to what they're doing." He snorted. "Fake magic."

Dave blinked at him. "And you just happened to be carrying that stuff around in your pocket? Why do you even own it let alone haul it around with you?"

"It's from the shop. Most people would rather buy fake magic than the real deal. More comfortable to believe in something you can explain away if it starts creeping you out. I grabbed some of it this morning while I was loading things into the car to bring here. Figured I might need it if Jacobus decided to surprise me again." His expression grew serious again. "Didn't expect to it to be so soon."

"Why didn't you just pack something a little more... I don't know..." Dave shrugged. "More _aggressive_."

"In other words, why didn't I pack a gun?"

Dave nodded.

"There are disarming spells. Without being able to deflect it, I'd be taking a risk that he'd hear me pull back the safety and would manage to get it away from me. Anyway... I don't own one. I've never needed it. And I don't like anything that lethal."

_Logical_. But it brought to mind something odd that this Jacobus had said. Carefully, Dave asked, "Balthazar. What was that stuff about killing his wife? And those other—"

"Don't listen to him, Dave. Mind games are Jacobus's specialty."

"So he's lying. I figured as much."

Balthazar didn't look at him, his eyes on the road. "He tries to get between people. Use things he knows against them."

Dave's brow furrowed. "So he's lying, right?"

Balthazar continued as though Dave hadn't even spoken. His voice grew stern. "And he'll use that information to distract you, Dave. Like he tried back there."

His apprentice winced. "I'm sorry, Balthazar. I didn't—"

"Just drop it. It's done. It can't be helped. Just _think_ first. Next time he comes, he very well might shoot to kill."

Dave nodded. "Right." A moment's hesitation. "I'm sorry for putting you in danger, too."

"I don't care about me. You're my apprentice. _Your_ life is my responsibility." His voice grew quiet. "I've already lived mine. It should have ended a long time ago. This is borrowed time now."

"No. Balthazar it's—"

"Shut up, Dave." The car squealed to a stop in front of the older sorcerer's building. "We're here. Get out. Go straight upstairs. I'll park."

Dave nodded and opened his door without argument. He paused, halfway out. "Balthazar?"

"This counts as not listening to me, Dave."

"It's quick. Just... you're going to tell Veronica about what happened, right?"

His master sighed. "If I don't, you will anyway," was his only response. "Now go. I'll be right back."

Dave hopped out of the car and beelined for the building, entering and hesitating as he debated stairs or elevator. If that Jacobus whacko tried to get him here, the elevator would be a stupid place to get stuck. There'd be no way out without someone getting hurt. Then again, how intelligent would going up several flights of empty stairs be?

A moment longer and he opted for the stairs. If he wasn't up to the apartment by the time Balthazar made it, he and Veronica would look for him anyway. He'd have backup if he could hold the guy back long enough. He only hoped that Balthazar would be okay out there alone.

He headed up. He'd never been this paranoid facing anyone before. Even Horvath. Probably because in the back of his mind, he hadn't really believed much in the stuff at first. He just kept telling himself that they were really vivid hallucinations. And by the time he did believe in it, he'd realized that Balthazar would somehow always save him. It was terrifying now to think that until they got his master's ring back, _Dave _might have to start doing the saving. Prime Merlinian or not, he didn't have the experience. And he didn't want to fail when it counted. If Balthazar died, Dave wasn't sure he'd be able to bring him back again.

He finally reached the door and knocked. "It's Dave," he called.

"I know. It's open."

Dave opened the door, surprised, slipping inside and shutting it behind him.

Veronica sat on the sofa, flipping through Balthazar's Incantus.

"You left the door unlocked?" Dave asked, confused.

She nodded. "I set up some basic wards on the stairs and elevator, so I can tell when you or Balthazar get up here. Anyway, it's silly to keep the door locked. If he could get past our wards, do you really think a deadbolt would stop a master sorcerer from getting in here?"

"Good point." Dave kicked off his old man shoes and walked over to the sofa, flopping down next to her.

"How did setting the wards go?"

Dave winced. "The wards went fine until I stupidly let the bad guy just walk in." He added by way of explanation, "He disguised himself as Balthazar."

Her eyes widened. "Are you all right? Where's Balthazar? Is he—?

"He's fine. He's out parking the car. Actually, he had to save me. Again." He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. "I'm doing a crappy job at this whole Prime Merlinian gig if Balthazar winds up having to save me even without his magic."

Her eyes were still concerned, but she seemed to relax at Dave's reassurance of Balthazar's safety. "You're still learning," she said. "I'll go to the lab and reset the wards later. And I'll add the one I have on our floor. Disguise or not, you'll be able to tell if it's really Balthazar entering."

Dave nodded. "Thanks." He sighed. "That guy knows Balthazar, though. This wasn't just someone who wants a strong sorcerer in his arsenal. It sounds like he really wants to take Balthazar down. And Balthazar seemed to know what to expect from him." He made a face, straightening. "I tried to ask him about it, but _that_ went about as well as usual." Dave rolled his eyes. "I pried, and he ignored the question completely. I _hate_ it when he does that. It means he's hiding something."

She smiled faintly. "Or it means that he doesn't know the answer. He hates admitting it when he doesn't know something. I'm sure it's worse now that he doesn't have magic to rely on. Only his knowledge and experience."

"Maybe. I don't know. He was acting weird though. Something's up with this Jacobus guy..."

Veronica paled, stopping Dave mid-sentence. "Jacobus?" She stared at Dave. What does _he_ have to do with this?"

The youth blinked at her, puzzled. "That's the guy who took Balthazar's ring. What's wrong? You know him?"

Her lips were set to a grim line. "Yes. I know him. I wouldn't have left you alone if I'd realized _he_ was the one after Balthazar."

The look on her face was unsettling, giving Dave the chills. It was a mix between fear and anger. A hard expression that he'd never seen grace her features before. "That's the look Balthazar had when he was yelling at me," Dave commented. "Jacobus is really that bad?"

"Yes," Veronica replied, darkly. "He's that bad. Jacobus is a very old, very dangerous Morganian. Even _we_ had trouble against him back during the Sorcerer Wars." She swallowed hard. "He and his wife, Gwen were known for their brutality and cunning... They were was the ones who captured and tortured Balthazar."

* * *

_Author's note: As always, thanks to Kaytori and lolo popoki for beta-ing this chapter. It really needed some smoothing out before they looked it over. Also, thanks for reading and for all of the reviews! I'm really happy to hear that so many readers are enjoying the fic:D I hope you've enjoyed this chapter as well:)_

_God þē mid sīe! _

_Sirius:)  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

It took a moment for Dave to process Veronica's words. So this Jacobus guy was more than just some intelligent, dangerous nut. More than a repeat of Horvath. This man was the one who had put his master through one of the many hells he'd lived through. Suddenly, Dave understood why Balthazar had been so freaked by him. "You're sure, Veronica?" he asked, his voice quiet, hoping that somehow she was wrong. Knowing that there was no way she could be. "I thought Balthazar never told you what happened."

She clasped her hands tightly and closed her eyes, sighing deeply. "He didn't. But he told Merlin." She tilted her chin up, taking another deep breath. Dave realized that she was trying to keep her face unreadable. "Merlin believed that everyone had a right to their privacy. He wouldn't share secrets easily. He told us that if Balthazar wanted us to know what happened, then he'd have to tell us."

"And Balthazar didn't want to tell."

She finally glanced back at him. "Are you surprised?"

"Not really." He glanced at the door, wondering what was taking his master so long. He was beginning to worry a little. "So, if Balthazar didn't tell and Merlin wouldn't..."

"Merlin allowed Balthazar his privacy. But because this pertained to Jacobus, he explained what he had seen when he'd brought Balthazar back." Her eyes were tired and sad, old memories obviously paining her. "You see, this was a special case... Jacobus was involved in almost every major battle that directly involved Morgana herself. Balthazar couldn't avoid him. And for some reason Merlin was certain that Balthazar had been specifically targeted. Whenever we dealt with Jacobus after that, Merlin required one of us to always keep an eye on his whereabouts."

Dave shook his head. "I'm sure Balthazar _loved_ that."

A faint smile flickered on her face, but her worry quickly suppressed it. "We weren't foolish enough to tell him. I'm sure he figured it out, but he wasn't in any position to argue. It was obviously Merlin's order, and Balthazar would never contradict our master. He considered it extremely disrespectful."

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Man, no wonder it pisses him off so much when I argue with him..."

She managed a real smile that time. "You're lucky he likes you so much, Dave."

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious. He would never put up with that from anyone else. There are rules and expectations about how an apprentice is expected to treat his master. And Balthazar expects rules to be followed. I've always been amazed by how much he lets you get away with. He relaxes around you. He jokes." She shook her head. "It's been a long time since I've seen him so comfortable around anyone."

Dave didn't know how to respond to that, so instead he awkwardly brought them back to the point. "So, do _you_ think Jacobus was really targeting Balthazar?"

"I don't know. But Merlin was rarely wrong. And if Jacobus _had_ decided to come to take him back during his recovery, Balthazar would have died. We assumed Merlin was right and one of us stayed behind to protect Balthazar until he was strong enough to defend himself." Her expression grew dark again. "For awhile we was afraid he'd never fully recover. The damage was..." She closed her eyes, as though to banish the image from her mind. "It was... extensive."

Dave's eyes widened. "Balthazar was that bad?"

Her voice grew almost too soft for Dave to hear. "He almost died, Dave. Even after Merlin got him back." Her eyes slowly opened and she looked at him, a raw pain visible. It was almost frightening. "And even after he was finally stabilized, he wouldn't wake up... Balthazar had somehow managed to hold out against them, but after nearly three weeks of physical and psychological torture, he almost broke. Merlin warned us that even if he _did_ wake up, he might never be the same again." She stared off into space, her eyes unfocused. "Three weeks missing. Two more with him nearly catatonic. He constantly had to have someone there with him... That was the closest I have ever known to hell. My imprisonment in the Grimhold was better. At least I slept through our time apart. I didn't have to see..." She shook her head, clearly trying to force the old images from her mind.

Tentatively, Dave asked almost against his will, "_Was_ he the same when he woke up? I mean... I don't know what he was like before..."

"Eventually." She forced a faint smile, a failed attempt to ease some of Dave's obvious worry. The smile wavered. "Mostly. He distanced himself from us for awhile. And he became a little quieter, far more reckless. I'd have thought an experience like that would have given him a stronger value for his own life, but instead he seemed even more willing to take stupid risks. But he was the same at his core. That was what mattered. Even after all he went through, he remained the man we knew. That was a small miracle on its own. He hadn't changed much, all things considered." She paused, quietly adding. "Except after that he began to have terrible nightmares." Her eyes met Dave's. "And now we know why he's having them again."

"Yeah," Dave responded darkly. "Now we know." He glared at the carpet for a moment, then leapt to his feet, fists clenched, and walked over to the window, staring blankly out at nothing. "Wish I'd have known before."

Veronica stood, coming around the sofa to stand beside him. Placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "What would you have done?"

"I don't know," he responded tightly. "But something. At least I could have tried." He shook his head. "I don't make close friends, Veronica. Not usually. And this sadist _tortured _one of the only ones I really have." Dave glanced over at Veronica. "I wish I could have killed him. I almost wish he'd come back so I could give him a taste of what he did to—"

"You will _not,_" came a sharp voice from behind.

Both Veronica and Dave spun around to see Balthazar standing in the entranceway, clicking the door shut behind him.

"Balthazar," Dave responded, hoping his master hadn't been listening long. "When did you—?"

But the man didn't wait for him to finish. There was a dangerous edge to his voice. "You will stay out of my business, Dave. Jacobus is mine to deal with, not yours." He tossed his keys on the table and shrugged his coat off, tossing it onto the armchair as he approached. "And," he continued, his voice lowering to a warning growl, "you will not even _consider_ attacking him, let alone _killing_ him. You wouldn't have a chance against him." His voice grew oddly distant. "Anyway, you're better than that."

"Balthazar," Veronica said, her voice still pained, yet firm at the same time. "He's angry. You know he wouldn't kill anyone. But I agree with him. We do have a right to help you."

Dave had taken a step toward Balthazar, refusing to be intimidated. "Wait, what do you mean I'm 'better' than that? Better than _what?_ I killed Morgana with your blessing." Dave's voice was sharp.

"It isn't the same situation, Dave. Morgana was trying to enslave the world," the man snapped. "Jacobus is only trying to take me. That's a big difference."

"Maybe to some people."

"You don't just kill every Morganian you don't like."

"I _know_ that," Dave snapped. "I don't _like_ the idea of killing anyone!"

But Balthazar wasn't listening, caught up in his own thoughts. "Why do you think I sealed Horvath rather than killing him? You think I never had the chance to destroy him? But random murder is something _they_ allow for, not Merlinians like you."

"Like _us_," Veronica corrected, but no one was listening.

Dave's lips had tightened into a thin like. "Yeah, Balthazar... Speaking of random murder—"

Veronica took a step toward her husband, interrupting Dave before he could finish_._ "Enough with this," she barked, silencing Dave. Turning toward her husband, she asked in a voice that reminded Dave just how powerful this deceptively delicate looking woman was. "Balthazar, why didn't you tell me that Jacobus is involved?"

He wouldn't look at her. "You didn't need to know."

"How many times do you expect me to watch you nearly die?"

Balthazar flinched slightly, and didn't answer that.

She continued, her voice quieter, but just as firm. "I remember the last time you faced them."

He shook his head. "I'm a lot stronger now, Veronica."

"And you're unarmed." She crossed her arms, her expression no-nonsense.

He gave his wife a strange look. "Do you really think they let me keep my ring last time? I know what sorts of games he'll play. And I know how to fight without magic. I've had centuries to prepare for a situation like this. Just trust me on this. Let me deal with him myself." His expression was unyielding. "I'm not risking either of your lives. It's too dangerous for either of you to fight him. Dave isn't ready, and even _you_ can't face him alone."

"Balthazar," Dave responded in frustration, trying not to whine, "I took down _Morgana. _How can I not be ready to fight some random Morganian?"

"Jacobus wasn't just some 'random Morganian,'" came Veronica's quiet voice from Dave's side. "He was Morgana's own apprentice."

Dave turned to stare at her in surprise. "He... what? She had an apprentice, too?"

Balthazar snorted. "Do you think Morgana would really fight all of her own battles? She had two of her own apprentices long before Merlin came upon us. Jacobus and Gwen." At Dave's startled expression, he added, "So, yes. You took down Morgana. And no, Jacobus isn't her caliber. But he's older than even _I_ am. And he's had centuries to hone his skills." He paused, then added in an odd voice, "And he has some connections that Morgana didn't have."

"And he has Gwen," Veronica added, the worry deepening in her eyes. "She's worse than Jacobus. Do you really believe you can fight them both alone?"

Balthazar snorted, finally turning away and dropping tiredly onto the sofa. "She won't be a problem anymore." He wouldn't make eye contact, even when his wife made her way around the sofa and sat directly beside him. "Honestly," he continued, "I'd almost prefer Gwen. She had less of an effect on me."

"Gwen?" Dave shot Veronica a confused look.

"Jacobus's wife," she clarified. "She's the more physically violent of the two. And the most dangerous."

Balthazar snorted at that. "I told you, don't worry about her. She won't be involved," was his only response.

"Because you killed her," Dave said quietly. He tried to ignore the clear surprise on Veronica's face. "Which for some reason is okay for you, but not for me."

"It was _war _back then, Dave," his master snapped, silencing the boy. "Kill or be killed. She managed to get the Grimhold from me about two hundred years ago. I had no choice. If I hadn't killed her, you'd have never met me and she would likely have unleashed Morgana on the world. You'd probably have been born into slavery." His eyes darkened to an almost frightening level. "And given that you're the Prime Merlinian, I'm sure she'd have made you her pet the moment she laid eyes on you."

"Fine. I get it," Dave, responded. "World enslavement makes killing okay. Friend torture means a slap on the wrist so the bad guys can come back in the sequel."

"Dave..."

"Well, it's stupid," his apprentice snapped. "I'm not saying that I _want_ anyone to die. I don't. But when it comes down to it, I'm getting a little tired of you just putting everything else before your own life."

"It's called fighting for a cause."

"No," the boy snapped. "It's called being Balthazar, which for some reason means it's okay for you to die for anything you consider worth your life... And that seems to be just about everything."

"Dave." The man's voice had taken on a warning tone.

He stood and began pacing. "Seriously. Normal people don't constantly do that. We have limits. We have a survival instinct. You act like you've found the shut off switch to _your_ survival instinct and blew it up!"

"You're talking about things you aren't old enough to understand."

"Don't play that line with me. I'm old enough to know that sometimes you need to suck it up and ask for help."

"This isn't one of those times."

"Balthazar," Veronica interrupted, "we have the right to make our own choices."

The man was silent for a long moment before responded, "Forget it. We'll discuss this later."

"Balthazar."

His expression was sincere. "I promise. We'll talk about it later. Right now, I want to make sure no one can breach our defenses. Veronica, would you be able to reset the wards at the lab? Jacobus can get through the ones Dave set now."

Dave winced at that, though this time it didn't seem as though Balthazar held it against him. He was merely stating a fact. It didn't make the youth feel any better, but it was still good to know that his master seemed to have cooled off about that at least.

Veronica nodded in response to the question.

"Good. Today if you can." His expression was serious. "And be careful," he warned. "Please."

She nodded again, this time resting her hand on his knee.

He gently placed his hand over hers, finally looking at her again. Frustration still shone in her eyes, but also acceptance. It was obvious that they were at a stalemate. They needed time to cool off and think.

"Are you going to stay here while I'm gone?" she asked.

"No. I'll go with Dave to the university. Jacobus wouldn't dare—"

"Wait. I'm going to _class_?" Dave burst out. "_Seriously_? A psycho tries to kill me and you're still making me to go a stupid gen ed class? You really expect me to be able to concentrate?"

Balthazar snorted. "Dave, it's an English class. You hate it. You wouldn't concentrate anyway. And it's one of the safest places we can be right now. Jacobus won't attack in a public place. He's no idiot. You're safer at the school than staying here, and it's best if Veronica gets the wards reset before he can get back in the lab. I don't want him using the Pentagram in there. There's enough dark residue from our first couple of fights as it is."

"And we can't all just go _there _together and protect each other, because...?"

"Because if Jacobus is after us, we need to keep him away from the lab while she's working. Might as well make him stake out the university while we keep you keep from completely failing that class."

"Balthazar..."

"You have two days of class left before your spring break. Becky and Bennet are going to notice if you suddenly skip school on top of suddenly staying at my apartment again. You don't want them to get involved. That's all Jacobus needs is something to hang over your head. And he will gladly use them to get to you. You can trust me on that one."

At those words, Dave closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Becky's going to figure out something's up if I don't hang out with her."

"I know. I'll figure something out while you're in class. Let's worry about one thing at a time. She'll be at her radio thing by the time we get to the university, so you're clear for now."

"I guess."

"Now," Balthazar said softly. "Go into the kitchen and eat something. We have to get going soon."

"Sure," the apprentice replied sullenly, stomping off into the kitchen.

Veronica took her husband's hand and squeezed it, drawing his attention. "How long do you really think you're going to be able to keep us out of this?"

"Later, Veronica. Please." His voice was dead tired.

"We want to help. Dave's right... you're terrible about asking for help when you need it."

Balthazar shook his head. "No," he replied. "Absolutely not. I held out against him once. If it comes down to that, I can do it again."

"You don't know that."

"I don't need to know. I'll do what I have to do. It will be fine."

"No," she replied shortly, squeezing his hand tightly. "I don't care if you _think_ you can. I'm not going to risk losing you again. Especially not to him."

"Veronica—"

But she didn't let him finish. "Balthazar." Her voice was like steel, though her eyes had softened with worry. "I can't." He opened his mouth to interrupt, but she held up a hand to quiet him. "You don't understand. This isn't just about you. It's about me and Dave as well. We both know that he doesn't like fighting. But he's willing to fight you—and fight _for _you—because he cares what happens to his master. So do I." Pain flickered in her eyes. "Maybe it isn't the same as living through centuries while I was trapped... but seeing what you were like after Merlin brought you back." She met his eyes. "Those two weeks were my personal hell. Two weeks of living every day wondering if you were going to ever open your eyes again. And worrying that if you did, you may not even be the same person we remembered anymore. It was as hard as when Morgana—" She broke off at that. Her were so dark, they looked almost black. "I can't live through that again."

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a warm embrace. "You won't have to."

Dave observed their exchange from just inside the shadows of the kitchen. _What would _I_ do if Jacobus took him? If we found him half-dead? Or broken? If he woke up too damaged to ever be the person I know again? _He clenched his teeth. _I'm not as good a person as you think, Balthazar. We all have our breaking points. And if that guy tries to take you down again, Merlinian or not, I will _find_ a way to give him a taste of what he's dished out. _His eyes darkened. _And then some...

* * *

_

_Author's Note: Yay for fast updates. Been a long time since I've had a fic that's absorbed me enough to update so frequently:D I credit all of you for reading and for the kind review! Way to motivate me:)_

_Also, a great big thanks to Kaytori and lolo popoki for their beta work!_

_Have a great day:)_

Sirius


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

The drive to the university was nearly silent. Dave sat sulking in the passenger seat, annoyed that after all they'd gone through that day, Balthazar was still making him sit through a class where all he would do was prop himself up and struggle to stay awake to the monotone drone of a professor who was probably as old as Balthazar. Worse, he knew that the entire time, he'd be worrying about his master hanging out alone on campus somewhere.

Balthazar had said almost nothing after checking one last time to see if Dave had his ring and reminding him to bring his Lit book and notes. After that, he'd basically left his apprentice to his moody silence.

It wasn't until they were pulling up to the campus, circling to find a place to park, that Balthazar finally spoke again. "Dave," he started, shooting a sideways glance at the boy. "How many classes do you have tomorrow?"

Dave turned and stared at the man. "Two. Why?"

"Will your grade suffer if you miss them?"

The youth raised an eyebrow at his master. "You're willing to let me skip classes tomorrow, but today you're making me go to the only one I have that I passionately hate? You're more sadistic than I thought."

Balthazar didn't bat an eye. "You didn't answer my question." He finally spotted a car pulling out of a space and hit the gas to get there before anyone else could.

Dave grabbed onto the door handle for dear life at the sudden burst of speed, refusing to answer until the vehicle had stopped and Balthazar had put it into park. "Is it safe for me to let go?" he asked sarcastically.

Balthazar said nothing, pulling the key from the ignition and dropping it into his pocket.

The youth sighed. "Yes. I can miss. Half the class probably won't be there with break starting anyway." He unbuckled his seat belt. "I could miss today's class, too, but I already know you're not going to let me out of it now that you found a parking space."

"I wouldn't have let you out of it if I _hadn't_ found a space. I'd have just dropped you off and circled until someone left."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

Again, his master ignored his sarcasm. "You're going to miss classes tomorrow," he responded simply, unbuckling his own seat belt as well. His hand went up to his face and he began rubbing the stubble across his jaw thoughtfully. "All right. So, spring break's about a week long... nine days if I count weekends. Ten if we add tomorrow." He was mostly muttering to himself at this point. "Not much time, but it'll have to do..." He glanced back up at his apprentice. "What's Becky doing over break? Did you two make plans?"

"No. She's going to visit her aunt."

"Out of town?"

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

Balthazar appeared to be lost in his own thoughts again and ignored the question. "Okay, good. That might work, then. Bennet will be another problem."

Dave shook his head. "Bennet won't say a word about it. He obviously knew I was lying when I had to make up a reason to have a sleepover at your apartment."

"Has it ever occurred to you that you could just not lie about it? It isn't like there's really a point in trying."

Dave chose not to answer that. "Look, all I'm saying that if he was going to start asking what I'm up to, he'd probably have done it by now. He'd rather not know what I do. He doesn't like weird stuff. I'm sure he'd rather not confirm that his roommate _is_ weird stuff."

Balthazar appeared amused. "He seems to like _me_ well enough."

Dave rolled his eyes. "He makes exceptions for people who help him 'get chicks'. Card tricks apparently make crazy fake uncles okay."

His master managed a small smile at that. "Good to know. Then we only have to worry about Becky. We need to ditch her until this is over."

"Ditch her? Seriously, you think that's even possible? She'll see through anything I tell her."

Balthazar snorted. "That's why _you_ aren't telling her anything. I'll make the call. I'll just explain that you have strep and are contagious—It hurts you too much to talk—and you'll call her when you're feeling better."

"And _why _praytell, did I go to a class that I hate while contagious and in pain?"

"I made you. You can't afford to lose the grade. It isn't like you'd be talking in the class anyway."

Dave rolled his eyes. "The sad thing is that she knows how you act well enough to believe that." He grabbed his backpack which had been laying on the floor by his feet. "You'd better call soon or you're going to miss her. She turns off her cell phone when she gets to the radio station. He moved to open his door, but Balthazar put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait. I need your cell phone."

The boy looked back at him. "Why? Where's yours?"

"Did you expect me to memorize your girlfriend's phone number?" Before Dave could protest, he held out his hand. "Just hand it over. You'll get it back after class. We don't have time to argue. Anyway, it's more likely she'll answer if the call's coming from your phone."

Dave grumbled, but had to admit the man was right. Becky didn't know Balthazar's number. And they couldn't risk her trying to visit before she checked her voicemail. It would be like handing Jacobus live bait. "Fine," he snapped, digging the phone out of his pocket and slapping it into his mentor's hand. "Just don't forget to give it back."

Balthazar nodded vaguely. "Now, get to class. I'll be in the library after I make the call, so meet me there." He sent the boy a serious look. "And be careful. Jacobus won't attack you in a public place. But he might be watching. You don't want to risk anyone's life by letting him know who your friends are."

"No problem. It's not like I have any friends in that class anyway."

"And don't go anywhere alone."

"So, ignore people while staying in a crowd," Dave replied, amused. "That shouldn't be obvious."

"I mean it, Dave," Balthazar replied quietly. "Be careful."

He turned back to his master, surprised to see how serious the older man looked. "Yeah," he said, feeling a little bad for blowing off the man's obvious concern for his welfare. "Yeah, I will." Awkwardly he added, "You, too."

Balthazar just nodded. "Now get to class. And don't skip out. If I have to, I'll check your notes and quiz you on it later."

Dave groaned and got out of the car. "You're worse than an overprotective parent," he muttered, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving his master to his phone call.

* * *

Half an hour later, Balthazar sat in the NYU library, trying to ignore the click of dozens of students typing away on their computers and the irritating hum of the monitors faintly buzzing over the periodic coughs and constant voices of students around him. It had been decades since he'd spent much time in a university library. The last time had been when he'd taught in London as a professor of science. That had been back in the early 1900s. He snorted, trying to tune out the irritating sounds of electronics buzzing in the background. Back when the only sounds you generally heard were low voices and the dry sound of flipping pages. Back people came to libraries to look at books, not surf the web. Didn't people _read_ libraries anymore?

_God, I'm starting to sound like a crotchety old man now bemoaning the good old days of my youth... Only I wasn't young back then either...  
_

His eyes skimmed over the myriad of people. What amused him the most was the way the students avoided him. It wasn't even a conscious choice. Without even realizing it, they simply chose seats a fair distance away from him, even though he was dressed in relatively normal, modern clothing for a change: A plain black shirt and vest. Black pants. They were old man clothes—not something a man his age would typically wear these days—but nothing excessively out of place. He'd even gone so far as to leave his hat and coat in the car. Still, it was as though they had an instinct to leave him alone. Something about him was off—was always off—and people sensed it. He'd given up a long time ago trying to blend in. It was easier to just be the weirdo. It aroused less suspicion in Manhattan anyway. Weirdos were commonplace. Normal people with the natural ability to creep others out by their very presence? Those were the ones the cops looked into.

His eyes roved the room as he fiddled with Dave's phone, flipping it open and shut... open and shut, as he'd been doing for the past twenty minutes since he'd gotten off the phone with Becky. Unsurprisingly that had been a short call. She'd been worried about Dave and grateful that Balthazar had bothered letting her know of his "illness", but she'd also obviously wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. There was a polite, cool distance between them. One that Balthazar was okay with. It kept her out of his circle, and in the long run that was probably best for Dave. Balthazar was a realist and he knew that one of these days he wouldn't be there for the boy anymore. When that day came, he wanted it to be as smooth a transition as possible for his apprentice. Reminders of his old master were unnecessary. The fewer connections Dave was left with at that point, the easier it would be...

These were odd and uncomfortable thoughts for the sorcerer to be having... but with the reemergence of Jacobus... it probably wasn't a bad idea to be considering his apprentice's future. He should probably have a talk with Veronica about Dave's training as well. Just in case.

His eyes scanned the room once more as he tucked his apprentice's phone back into his pocket. It had only been about half an hour since Dave's class would have started. It would be another hour before it ended. Balthazar sighed. He was in for a long, boring wait. He stood and stretched his long limbs. He supposed he _could_ go find something to read. It was a library, after all. There had to be _some _worthwhile literature here. Maybe they had _Don Quixote_. Had to have been a good 300 years since he'd read Cervantes. Or maybe _Frankenstein_. He'd gotten a kick out of that one back during the whole Galvanism fad.

Or perhaps they had some of Goethe's works. He smiled faintly. He hadn't read "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" since it had been written. And now that he thought of it, the old poem kind of made him think of Dave's little escapade with the brooms awhile back. Maybe he could make a copy and leave it somewhere for the kid to find. _That_ should annoy the hell out of him.

With a new purpose to his step, he began walking towards one of the computers, sharply missing the old card catalogs. He was all for technological advances, but there was something to be said about keeping some of the old ways as well.

He'd hardly made it two steps when he noticed a familiar figure approaching. He stopped, his brow furrowed as he turned. "Dave? What happened to class?" He kept his voice stern, but there was a grain of worry in his mind. The boy wouldn't intentionally have disobeyed him. Not over something stupid like this. And he wasn't looking so well.

His apprentice made a face. "Had to leave. Couldn't take it in there anymore."

Balthazar leveled a somewhat suspicious gaze at the boy as Dave dropped into a nearby chair leaned against the table, resting his head on his arms. It looked like his apprentice, but this wouldn't be the first time an enemy had tried _that _trick. "Pop quiz," he announced.

Dave's head whipped up and he sent Balthazar an almost pathetic look. "Come on, Balthazar. You can't be serious. I wasn't even in there long enough to retain anything."

"You remember how we first met?"

Dave shut his eyes and dropped his head back onto his arms. "Are you kidding me?"

"Dave..."

"Of course I do. I almost knocked over an urn into your shop and you scared the crap out of me with its backstory. _Why_?"

Balthazar relaxed, attempting to keep his relief off of his face. _It _was_ just class, then. Not Jacobus. Thank God. _"Just needed to be sure it was really you," he responded.

"We really do need a special knock or handshake or something," came the boy's muffled voice.

Balthazar ignored that last comment. "So, explain to me why exactly you're _here _and not in class. That whole 'couldn't take it anymore' thing isn't going to cut it."

Dave looked up at him, and Balthazar noted again how pale he appeared. "We're reading Poe, Balthazar," was his only response.

His master raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And today the prof decided to give us the historical background of our next short story."

The old man began drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth with this kid. "_And_?"

Dave shot Balthazar an odd look before glancing away. "And the story we were talking about's "The Pit and the Pendulum," he muttered. "Not really in the mood to learn all about torture devices of the Spanish Inquisition right now." He winced at the memory. "Not with this Jacobus stuff going on. Little too up-close-and-personal for me at the moment." He scowled. "So I told the prof I was sick. Must have looked it, because he didn't even question me."

Balthazar sighed, sitting down across from the boy. "Fine. You're off the hook." His expression grew stern again. "But understand that this is it. If you start having issues when they make you read _The Crucible_, I'm not letting you worm your way out of class. You'll listen to the stuff they say about Abigail Williams and you'll pretend to believe it."

"You realize that I'm an adult and can just skip if I want to?"

"And _you_ realize that if you do, I will make your life so miserable that you'll never consider it again." He smiled faintly. "Call me old-fashioned, but I expect my apprentice to be well-rounded. It used to be standard that an educated person made it a point to learn a little about everything. You didn't just learn what you like. Most people who were considered educated could speak at least two languages, often more. They were able to have intelligent conversations about literature, politics and science. They didn't necessarily like the topics, but they knew them." He motioned to the boy. "You could use that kind of culture, and I'm going to expect it of you. Not to that extent for now, but at least a working knowledge." He smirked. "And eventually I _will _expect you to rise to my level. That's the downside of having an old man as your master."

Dave made a face. "Life was so much easier when you were locked inside an urn."

"Funny, Dave." Balthazar reached into his pocket and yanked the boy's phone out, sliding it across the table. "Here." He lowered his voice. "I called and worked things out. Problem solved until spring break's over."

The youth picked the phone up from the table and gave it a suspicious look. "Really? She actually believed you?"

"Keep your voice down," Balthazar growled, annoyed, "unless you want to risk our friend figuring things out anyway."

Dave paled at that and Balthazar continued in a low voice. "She bought it. And since you cut out of class, if she _does_ happen to talk to any of your classmates, they'll just confirm your illness. You're in the clear." He motioned to the cell phone. "I took the liberty of dumping friends and family from your contact list in case he gets his hands on your phone," he added.

His apprentice flipped the phone open and looked it over. "Great," he muttered. "Now I get to try to remember all of those later."

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "There were all of five names, Dave. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Dave glanced back up at the older man. "I thought you said you dumped _all _my friends."

"I did."

The youth shook his head. "Then why are you and Veronica still in here?" He met his master's eyes.

The older man paused a moment, giving Dave an odd look. "Didn't see the point," he responded slowly. "We're in danger whether he gets your phone or not." He glanced away, the topic obviously closed.

"Right," Dave mumbled, shaking his head and changing the subject. He dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper. "Anyway, I can't believe that _you_ actually managed to lie to her. I thought we established that you suck at it almost as much as _I_ do."

Balthazar glared at his apprentice, responding in a hushed voice, "Unlike you, I only 'suck at it' to people who know me well. Becky avoids me like I'm carrying the Bubonic Plague."

Dave bristled at those words. "She does not," he muttered, defensively. "She's actually cool with the magic stuff."

"It isn't the 'magic stuff'' that's the problem, Dave. She takes that surprisingly well. It's _me _she's not comfortable around." He shrugged. "Which is fine. It isn't like she hates me. She's polite. I give her the space she needs. We'll manage until I'm out of your life."

"So, til one of us dies, then?" Dave responded sarcastically.

His master appeared amused. "You plan on being an apprentice for that long?" He stood before Dave could come up with an appropriate response. "Let's get out of here. Veronica must be done by now. Maybe we can catch her before she gets home."

He began walking away without even bothering to wait for his apprentice to follow.

Dave got to his feet and hurried after him, only managing to catch up just as Balthazar reached the exit. "Of course I don't plan on being an apprentice forever," he said as the man pushed the door open and stepped outside into bright sunshine. "But what does that have to do with you being 'out of my life?'"

"I'll stick around while you need me. After that we're done."

"No."

Balthazar didn't even break stride. "I wasn't asking your opinion, Dave. I'm telling you that's how it works."

"You didn't just abandon Merlin."

His master remained silent.

"Balthazar—"

"It was war. He still needed us. Hopefully you won't." He kept a few paces ahead of his apprentice, making it impossible for Dave to make any eye contact.

"Wait." In his irritation, Dave grabbed a hold of his shoulder to stop him. He tried to ignore the way the man tensed under his grip. "I'm not okay with that, Balthazar. You're not just bailing on me. Especially when I come into my powers or whatever you call it. It isn't like I'm suddenly going to just stop needing guidance. Even if I _do_ somehow get stronger than you, I'll never have your experience. What if some crazy comes after me? It'll be easier to deal with him if we both—"

The man spun on him at that, pulling from Dave's grasp. "Some crazy like the one who's after you now?" he asked, darkly. "He's here because of me, Dave. If you don't want to deal with the crazies, then you're better off completing your training and cutting ties. I've had over a thousand years to make enemies. Jacobus isn't the first to hunt me down and he certainly won't be the last."

"Isn't it the Prime Merlinian's job to take down the bad guys?" Dave argued defiantly. "Who cares why they show up?"

"You aren't Superman, Dave. You aren't supposed to hunt down criminals. Merlin always said that we are but servants. That means when we're called upon—when we're needed—then we're here to do what's right and to make sure it stays that way. But you're not supposed to have to take down Morganian after Morganian every week."

Dave glared at him. "So if I 'call upon' you after you bail on me, are you planning on coming back?"

"Doesn't work that way, Dave. Now let's get moving. We're burning daylight." He turned and began walking once again toward the car.

Dave silently followed Balthazar, his expression dark. Like hell he was going to let Balthazar just teach him and run. Even if he _did_ plan on doing it to protect Dave, it wasn't going to happen. That's not how friendship worked, and, whether Balthazar liked it or not, as far as Dave was concerned Balthazar was his friend, not just his master. But the older man was obviously not going to be reasonable. And Dave knew that it would just be easier to let it drop. For now.

Dave was so intent on his thoughts that he didn't even notice that Balthazar had stopped a few paces ahead of him until Dave crashed into him, dropping his literature notes all over the sidewalk. "Oh, come _on_," he muttered, dropping to his knees to pick them up. "Is it really necessary for _everything_ to go wrong all at once?" He began scooping up papers and shoving them haphazardly into his backpack, grateful at least that there was no wind. It took him a moment to realize how quiet everything seemed. He looked up. There were people around, of course, but not as many as usual. It was as though the students were giving them wide berth. And from the disinterested looks on their faces, it didn't look like a conscious decision they were making.

His gaze shot over to Balthazar who still stood stiffly to his side, still a little ways ahead of Dave. The man's fists were clenched. His expression set in stone. The object of his master's nearly hostile expression was Jacobus, approaching as though nothing were wrong. As though they were old friends and had simply run into each other on the way to work. There was a faint smile curving the Morganian's lips. A twinkle to his eyes.

Dave's eyes dropped to the man's hands. Two rings. One was Balthazar's—seeing it on this man made Dave's blood boil—and the other must have been his own. It was a blood red stone set in gold. That was all he could see from the distance. There was a ruddy glow to his ring. Likely he was the reason they were being so easily ignored in the middle of the sidewalk.

Just looking at the man made Dave's ribs ache in memory of the afternoon's attack. He supposed he should be grateful that Jacobus was here rather than causing trouble for Veronica back at the lab. But seeing that man brought back a resurgence of his defensive anger on behalf of his master. If it weren't for the fact that even with this man's magic in effect, the people around them would _have_ to notice a full-blown battle of sorcery, Dave would have already lobbed a plasma bolt in this guy's direction regardless of Balthazar's wishes. Jacobus had managed to distract pedestrians from their business, but they weren't blind. One girl, for instance, almost tripped over Dave's backpack and shot him a glare before continuing on her way. There was no way to hid magic here. He only hoped that Balthazar was right. That Jacobus wouldn't want to start anything in public either.

Balthazar's face was almost expressionless except for a small muscle working in his jaw and a dark fire in his eyes. "What do you want, Jacobus?" he growled. "There isn't much you can do in public unless you want every Morganian for miles around to join us..."

_Wait..._ Dave's brows furrowed. _What?_ He glanced between the two men, shoving the last paper into his bag, and rising to his feet to stand beside Balthazar.

Jacobus smirked, approaching them and standing only a few steps away. "I don't intend to fight you, old man. Not at the moment. I can see from our past couple of disagreements there is some misunderstanding between us, and I've unfortunately gotten off on the wrong foot with your apprentice. Very disagreeable. And completely unnecessary."

Balthazar's expression didn't change. "I asked what you want."

"Send your boy home and we'll take a walk. Discuss things like civilized adults." There was a cold twinkle of amusement in his eye that Dave didn't like. "I have a proposition for you."

Balthazar's face twitched into a scowl. "I can already tell you the answer."

"Come now... we haven't even discussed anything yet."

"If you're the one proposing it, then the answer is no."

Dave had to fight not to grin at that. _Go, Balthazar!_ he inwardly cheered, fully appreciating anything that would wipe that little smirk off this guy's face.

But Jacobus's smile didn't fade. If nothing else, Balthazar's response seemed to please him more. "I see you've still got that stubborn streak of yours." His eyes narrowed, his smile growing cold. "I thought I'd broken you of _that_ years ago." A malicious gleam flashed in his eyes before he added, firmly, "Let's walk, Balthazar."

"Go to hell."

The man took a step closer, arching one black eyebrow. "Balthazar," he responded, coolly. "I wasn't asking. I was telling you that we are going to take a walk to discuss things. Now, send your boy on his way or _I_ will."

Balthazar shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. Through clenched teeth, he growled, "Go home, Dave."

Dave just stared at his master a moment in stunned silence. _What the hell? _Since when did Balthazar give up so easily? "No," he replied shortly, as unnerved by the man's sudden submission as he was by the almost defeated look that flashed across Balthazar's face and the forced tone to his voice. "I'm staying here with you. I don't trust this guy."

"Dave," Balthazar snapped, "_go_. Now."

"I'll take my chances with him."

Amusement had returned to the Englishman's voice, "Why are you arguing with your master, boy? Do as you're told and run along." He motioned vaguely with his hands. Then he shot a glance at the older Merlinian. "Balthazar, I'd have thought that _you _of all people would know how to demand respect out of your apprentice."

"Leave him be," Balthazar snarled at the man before him. He turned sharply to Dave. "I can handle this. Just go. He and I won't be leaving the campus."

"Balthazar, I'm telling you, I'm not—"

But he was interrupted by the smooth voice of their Morganian adversary. "This is getting tiresome, old man. Demand the he leave. I don't care about your little Merlinian rules. You have control over him as his master. Use it."

Dave stared at Balthazar. "What does he mean you have _control_ over me?"

A wicked gleam flashed in Jacobus's eyes. "I see you hid _that _from him as well."

But Balthazar wasn't listening. "That's a Morganian attitude," he snapped back, "_old man_." His eyes flashed, and it was as though he suddenly broke out of whatever it had been that had momentarily taken the fight out of him. The fire was back in his eyes. "And not one I intend to impose on him."

Jacobus's eyebrows shot up at that. "Really, Balthazar. How hypocritical of you, all things considered." He shook his head, tutting under his breath. There was an expression of amusement on his face, the conversation obviously entertaining him. "Don't you think your whole 'Merlin's champion' act is starting to get a trifle old?"

It was all Dave could do to keep himself from blasting that smug look off of the other man's face.

Jacobus sighed, and to Dave's surprise simply shook his head. "Fine, Balthazar. Have it your way. We could have resolved this easily, but as usual, you need to make things difficult." He lifted his wrist, glancing down at his watch. "I have business to attend to and don't have time to argue with some defiant serf and his disobedient little pet." He shook his head. "You should have listened to me, Balthazar. The next time we talk, I won't be giving you a chance to come peacefully. You will be mine to do with as I will." He touched his hand to his head as though tipping the brim of some nonexistent hat. "Good day," he said pleasantly, a cool smile curving the corners of his lips as he turned away.

Dave balled his hands into fists, feeling a slight crackle of electricity in each.

"No." Balthazar's low voice startled him. "Not worth it. He'd turn on you before you could get a second shot in." He glanced up at the people around them. "Anyway, he's dropped the distraction he'd put on them. They'd easily notice now. Let's just go."

The youth didn't move, glaring at the retreating figure. He felt another small flare in his hands.

"_Dave._"

He finally relaxed his hands, allowing the energy to release harmlessly into nothing. Balthazar was right. That guy wasn't worth it. Not in public, at least. "Right," he mumbled, looking back up at Balthazar. The expression on the man's face was disconcerting, as though he were at war with himself. "Balthazar?"

"I'm fine."

"You're lying," Dave muttered, but didn't push it, knowing how futile _that_ would be. "But fine. Let's just pretend for ten seconds that I believe you. I want to know what he was talking about back there."

"Leave it," the Merlinian replied abruptly before striding off toward the car once again.

"No," Dave replied, forcing his voice to remain steady, his eyes serious. "You owe me some answers, Balthazar."

"Not now. Let's just go." But he'd stopped walking. His back was still toward Dave, but he'd turned his head just enough to watch his apprentice from the corner of his eye.

Dave took a step forward. "No. Look, I'm on your side, Balthazar. No matter what's going on here. No matter what that creep says."

Balthazar's eyes darkened at that, but Dave continued. "Don't give me that look. I mean it. I trust you. But I need to know what he's talking about."

"You don't _need_ to know anything."

Dave blatantly ignored that response, continuing. "Who were all those people that he claims you killed, Balthazar? And why did he think you could control me?" His eyes were dark and he struggled to keep his worry hidden in that blackness. "No more secrets. No more hiding the truth."

Balthazar snorted at that. "You swore to me that you would follow my orders, Dave. And you've directly disobeyed me twice since then. You're not exactly in any position to be complaining about my moral scruples at the moment."

"I have a right to know. Especially when the stuff pertains to _me_."

Balthazar turned to face the boy completely, his expression shifting from annoyance to anger. He opened his mouth to retaliate when something seemed to strike him and he instead hesitated thoughtfully. "All right," he replied, his voice suddenly tired. "But not here in the middle of the sidewalk." He turned away again. "Wait until we're in the car." With that he began walking so quickly that Dave was forced to almost run to keep up.

They walked in complete silence until they finally got to the Phantom. Balthazar unlocked it and got inside while Dave slipped in as well. As soon as the door was shut, Balthazar started the engine. "Seat belt," he said when Dave slammed his door and just sat there waiting impatiently.

"Not until we talk."

His master studied him a moment before putting his own on. "There's not much to talk about."

"Not much to talk about? Balthazar, this Jacobus guy put you through hell back in Merlin's day. Then he just sort of disappears for a thousand years only to show up yesterday out of nowhere to start it all over again? Why?" He began tapping his fingers on the armrest, nervously. "Then there's the fact that this guy obviously has no problem hurting you, but instead of killing you when he has the chance, he only steals your ring."

Balthazar didn't look at him, having begun to fiddle with the car's rear-view mirror. "Do you expect me to think like Jacobus now?"

"No, but—"

"Then how am I supposed to know what his plans are?"

Dave refused to be deterred. "Why did you agree to walk with him?"

"You were there, Dave. He made it pretty clear that if I didn't, you were the one who'd pay for it."

The youth shook his head. "No. He didn't. Anyway, that's not it. You should have seen the look on your face when you agreed. It was like everything went out of you when he ordered you to come. What did he do to you?"

"He didn't _do_ anything, Dave." There was a warning tone to his voice now. He let go of the rear-view mirror, probably afraid he'd tear it off if he got much more irritated.

"And those people?"

Balthazar leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache. "What people?" he asked, exasperated. "The ones he was influencing on the sidewalk?"

"No." Dave shook his head. "The ones he said you killed." His voice dropped. "The ones he claimed weren't even Morganian." He studied his master carefully. "You never denied it, Balthazar."

That muscle was working in the old sorcerer's jaw again. He took a deep, calming breath. "I will explain _one_ thing to you, Dave. _One_. And then this car will be moving. And it will be moving very, very quickly, so you will want your seat belt on." He dropped his hand and looked his apprentice in the eye. "So what one thing do you want to know?"

"What?" Dave sputtered. "Wait. What do you—? I have a right to—"

"You have the right to ask," his master replied simply. "And I have the right to refuse to answer." He held up a single finger. "One question. What do you care the most about right now?"

Dave glared out the window. This was such crap. Balthazar was going to worm his way out of that one again. Because Dave knew the old man meant it when he said that he'd only answer once. And even with all of his master's evasions and omissions, Dave trusted the man. Balthazar wouldn't have killed anyone for no reason. If he could only get one answer, then there was something more important that he needed to know. "Fine. Then I want to know why he thought you could just _make _me leave back there, even without your magic. He made it sound like you own me or something. Why?"

Balthazar flinched at those words and turned away.

"_Why_?"

Finally after another moment's silence, Balthazar answer, responding simply, "Because I do."

* * *

_Author's Note: Thanks to FrostPhoenix, lolo popoki and Kaytori for their beta work. And thanks so much to all of you for reading. Please review!_

_Sirius:)  
_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Dave stared blankly at his master for a moment, half expecting the man to start laughing at him for his gullibility and tell him that Jacobus was full of it. That the Morganian had only been playing mind games again. That it had just been too great an opportunity for Balthazar to mess with his apprentice to pass up.

He waited for the man to crack a smile. Laugh. _Something_. But all Balthazar did was pointedly avoid eye contact by starting up the car.

With a sick feeling, Dave finally realized that if he wanted anything explained, he was going to have to be the first to speak. "You're kidding, right?"

The man said nothing, his expression stone.

"Balthazar? You're messing with me again, aren't you?"

"Buckle up."

"_Aren't you?_" A note of panic colored the boy's voice this time.

"You're one question is up," was Balthazar's only response. "Now the car moves. Buckle up or risk getting thrown into the windshield when I stop." His sarcasm was back, but there was a strange quality to his voice that didn't make Dave feel any better.

Dave buckled, but he didn't drop the subject, even when the car roared to life, backed up, and squealed out of the parking lot into traffic. "Balthazar. You'd better be joking about that."

"I'm not." His voice was flat.

"What the—?" Dave stared at him, incredulously while clutching his seatbelt as though it would somehow protect him from the man's terrifying driving. "What do you mean you _own_ me, Balthazar?" His expression darkened. "And don't think that turning this drive into a roller coaster ride is going to make me drop the subject."

"I wouldn't risk my car for that."

Dave refused to be deterred. "What do you mean you _own_ me?"

Silence. The man squealed around a corner, barely making it through an intersection just as the yellow light was turning red. He turned another corner, bringing them to the street Balthazar's apartment was on. It wasn't until he was approaching the parking garage that he began to slow down. "We'll just go upstairs and wait for Veronica," he commented as though Dave hadn't spoken. He pulled into the parking garage and miraculously managed to find a space near the entrance, pulling the car into the space and putting it into park.

Finally the strain of waiting for Balthazar to explain was too much for the boy and he snapped, "_Balthazar. What. Do. You. Mean?"_

The old sorcerer turned the key, killing the engine and finally turned back to Dave, looking him in the eye for the first time. "I mean," he said quietly, "that I own you. It's not a difficult concept." There was something dark in his eyes.

"Yes," Dave snapped, popping his seatbellt off so he could turn and properly glare at his master. "Yes, it _is_ a rather difficult concept. See, it's the twenty-first century now. I'm pretty sure slavery isn't legal. So how exactly is it that you think you own me?"

"I don't think I own you, Dave. I do. You made an oath to me, remember? Inside the Circle. No going back. You bound yourself to me and my teachings that day." He closed his eyes. "'Step inside and you leave everything else behind.' In my day, that meant your past life as well. All attachments. Everything."

Dave gritted his teeth. "This isn't your day, Balthazar. And I don't remember giving you permission to own me."

"What did you _think _master meant?" he replied in a voice that was harsh, even for him.

The youth shook his head, staring at his master, willing the man to realize how insane this entire conversation was. "Oh, I don't know," he responded sarcastically, "maybe the whole 'guy who trains the apprentice' thing. I seem to remember you mentioning something about _that_ at least when I entered the Circle that first time."

"Back in my day, the master essentially owned his apprentice. The word came from Old English. _Maegester_ basically meant the guy who has control. That went for any field. Sorcery is older even than that, and it pushed those boundaries a bit further."

"I don't want a history lesson, Balthazar. I want some real answers."

"I just gave you answers." The man appeared to be unfazed by his apprentice's ire, but his eyes betrayed him. As flippant as his responses were, this entire conversation was bothering him. Obviously this wasn't something he wanted to discuss.

At the moment Dave didn't particularly care. "Those aren't answers. You're talking about things that happened centuries ago."

"But the rules still hold."

Dave took a deep breath, bringing his hand up to his head and trying to control his temper. With Balthazar it would be stupid to let his anger decide his reactions. The old man was too clever. It would just be an open opportunity for the sorcerer to worm his way out of more questions. As it was, it was a small miracle that Balthazar was still sitting there with him in the car, making no move to leave. And, Dave reluctantly admitted, he technically _was_ answering questions, even if they were as vague as he could manage. It was frustrating, but that was more than Balthazar usually offered when faced with something he didn't want to talk about.

"Okay," Dave said quietly through clenched teeth. "So back in the day, masters owned apprentices. This is kind of like one of those old laws then, right? The kinds that aren't used anymore but never got officially pulled from the books. You technically own me. But really you just teach me." He took another deep breath, eyes closed so he didn't have to look at his mentor and risk snapping at the man again. "Anything else I should know about the contract that I didn't realize we'd made?"

Balthazar didn't answer right away. Not a good sign.

"Balthazar?"

"It's more than just some old, closed rule," the man said softly.

Dave groaned, leaning his head back on the seat's headrest while covering his face with his hands. _Of course it is... Come on, Balthazar, I don't want to be angry with you on top of everything else that's been going on. Why do you have to hide things?_ "How?" was all he managed to say out loud. He didn't trust himself to say more.

"You wanted to know why Jacobus insisted I send you away. Why he thought I had some kind of control over you. It's because I'm your master."

"I kind of figured that much out. I'm supposed to follow my owners instructions." He sighed, finally looking back at the man.

Balthazar was staring off into the distance. "No. Not supposed to. _Have_ to. If I insist."

Dave raised one eyebrow. "What?"

"Jacobus said I can control you, because I can. It's a part of the Oath. Presumably to keep errant apprentices reigned in. So they can't use their power before they've gained their control." He paused. "It's actually a very good idea in theory. But when it comes down to it, all it means is that the master can exert control over his apprentice."

"So, you can make me do stuff?"

"Yes."

"And I'd _have_ to do it?" The youth's voice was deceptively calm, yet his anger was already bubbling to the surface. _Dammit, Balthazar..._ His thoughts were burning inside of him. _Why do you have to lie to me?_

Balthazar nodded once more. If he suspected just how angry his apprentice was, his voice didn't betray his concern. "Yes. It's a very old magic. Even Merlin didn't know all the details. But that's what it boils down to. The master owns his apprentice. That means every part of him straight down to his own free will. If a master wants his apprentice to act and the apprentice refuses, he can use his power to enforce it. The Oath binds master and apprentice together, both in training and in this. It's a very old, powerful magic."

"And because it's some old tradition, that made it okay?"

"It's not tradition, Dave. It's a part of the Oath. If you wanted me to train you, then you had to accept it. There's no way for me to just remove one part of the Oath. It's all or nothing."

"Yeah, that's funny," Dave replied in a biting voice, "because I don't remember even having a _choice_ about whether or not I wanted to accept that. Because I didn't know about it until right now."

"Dave."

"So, what? You figured you could just hide this from me, too? Just tell me when it was convenient for you?"

"I wasn't trying to hide it from you."

"Well, you sure didn't _tell_ me that you'd own me if I stepped into the Circle with you and made that Oath."

Balthazar's expression hardened, a sure sign that his own temper was beginning to boil over. Through gritted teeth, he responded, "I wasn't trying to hide this. Even _I_ have limits, Dave. This isn't the sort of thing I'd just try to hide from you if I thought it mattered."

The boy stared at his master incredulously. "If you thought it _mattered_? How could it not matter that you can _control_ me?"

"I never planned on controlling you, Dave. I have the right, but I've never enforced it. I didn't think you needed to know about something that would never come into play. You needed to know the details of this as much as you need to know the mechanics of your breathing. It doesn't matter as long as your lungs are working."

"This isn't like breathing," Dave growled.

"Well, that's as scientific as I can make it sound."

"I don't need it to sound scientific. I'm not worried about _that_."

"Don't worry at all." Balthazar took a deep, calming breath. "You didn't know because it _doesn't _matter. Morganians enforce things like that. I have no intention of cashing in on that Oath."

"Give me a break, Balthazar," the boy muttered under his breath. Louder, he added, "Do you really expect me to believe that? After you've spent months "forgetting" that small detail? How do I know you're not going to just "forget" that you're not going to use me?"

Balthazar's jaw clenched and he glared seriously at the boy before him. "First of all," he said in a tight voice, "I never claimed to have 'forgotten' anything. I haven't denied that I consciously chose not to tell you."

Dave snorted at that.

"_Secondly_," Balthazar continued, "I didn't tell you in the first place because I knew you'd never agree to help me. Unfair, but the entire world was at stake. Afterward... there didn't seem to be a point if it would never come into play. Anyway, I knew you'd take it badly."

"Really?" Dave snapped sarcastically, finally completely losing his temper at that last, absurd comment. "You thought I might 'take it badly?' Which part, Balthazar? The part where you own me? The part where you tricked me into handing you my freedom?" He paused briefly, breathing hard. "How about the part where you _lied _about it?" He stressed that word, his eyes meeting his master's. For all his angry words, it was hurt, not anger, registering in Dave's eyes. "Because," he continued more quietly, "that's what bugs me the most. I get why you never told me at first. It sucks, but it kind of makes sense. You needed the Prime Merlinian. And I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about getting dragged back into magic. But we're friends now. You know me well enough to get that I wouldn't bail on you, even with shitty information like this, and you still kept hiding it from me." He shook his head, opening the door and stepping outside onto the pavement.

"Dave."

But the boy ignored him. "Guess you really meant it," he muttered. "You're my master, not my friend."

"_Dave_."

"Don't talk to me." Dave's voice was tired but firm. He slammed the door shut behind him and began heading toward the apartment building.

Balthazar wouldn't leave it at that. He whipped his own door open and leapt out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him. "Dave. Get back here."

"No."

"We aren't done talking."

"Yes we are, Balthazar."

"No we aren't. Now move."

"Make me." He paused at that, his temper flaring again. "But that would be easy for you, right?" He was so close to just blowing up at his master, but there was still a small part of him that still wished Balthazar would just leave him be so he could cool off before he said something he'd regret. Purposefully, he began walking again.

"This is why I didn't tell you, Dave. Because I knew you'd—"

Dave stopped and finally spun on him. "'Take it badly.' I get it." He took a step toward Balthazar. "Yes, Balthazar. I'm taking it badly. How would _you_ take it if you found out like this?"

"I'd rather have found out like this than when I was forced to do something against my will."

Dave froze at those words. His anger was still burning at the surface, but curiosity and surprise were getting the better of him. "Wait. Are you saying that _Merlin_ forced it on you? What would _he_ make you do?"

But the man's eyes shuttered off. "Nothing. He never made me do anything. Just like I never would. It was only a comparison."

And the moment of curiosity ended, killed by the obvious lie that his master's eyes were admitting to. "Yeah," Dave muttered. "Like I'm going to believe that. You're already back to hiding things again." He shook his head and turned away. "Just leave me alone." With those words, he turned and stormed off.

Surprisingly, Balthazar didn't follow, finally giving Dave a few moments to himself. It was too late, though. His temper had been pushed to its limits, and Dave wanted nothing more than to ditch the old man entirely. If it weren't for the fact that a small part of him was still genuinely concerned about Jacobus and the role that man might play in his master's welfare, Dave would have just grabbed his things and returned to his own apartment. But no matter how angry he was, he didn't want Balthazar harmed. Pissed, maybe. Pride wounded a little, perhaps. Soundly beaten, certainly. But actually physically or psychologically harmed by that maniac? Never.

So, instead of just bailing, he raced up the stairs, skipping the elevator rather than waste time waiting for it and risk seeing his master again. _Master... _He inwardly winced at his own use of that word. Up until now, he'd had no problem thinking of Balthazar as his master, but now everything had changed and the word, even in his own mind, disgusted him.

He finally made it to the correct floor and hurried down the hall to the apartment. The door was locked, implying that Veronica was still gone, thus unable to monitor the floor's wards. He dug his hand into his pocket and fumbled around until he found the key. His hand was shaking. After two tries, he finally managed to jam it into the lock and yank the door open, tearing the key from the lock and tossing it onto the table, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.

He went straight to his room, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it even though he knew his master wasn't around to hear him. It was an immature move, but at least he was having his temper tantrum while the man couldn't hear, thus couldn't ridicule him.

It was several minutes before he heard someone open the door and come in, shutting the door behind him and tossing his own keys down. Shoes were kicked off before the heavy thud of footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Dave covered his face with the pillow, hoping the man would just pass by the door and go to his own room instead.

No such luck.

Balthazar knocked. "Dave."

The boy didn't respond, willing him away.

"Dave we need to talk."

"Not now," Dave replied, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Apparently he was loud enough for the older man to hear. "Yes, now. Open the door."

Dave lifted the pillow from his face and flopped it onto the bed beside him.

"Make me."

There was a long pause before his master responded coolly. "You realize that I can just pop the hinges, right? I don't need my ring to 'make you.'"

"Of course not," the boy replied. "Because you own me. You can make me do whatever you want with the Oath. Who needs a ring?"

Balthazar ignored the sarcasm. "I can also pick the lock."

"Even if you do get in here, I'm not talking to you."

"You mean like how you aren't talking to me now?"

Dave fell into a sulky silence.

"This is childish, Dave. Come out here and let's discuss this like grown men."

"There's nothing to discuss. I'm your slave whenever you decide you want me to be."

"For god's sake, Dave," Balthazar finally snapped. "If I wanted to push this whole Oath situation, don't you think I'd have done it by now? Like when I wanted you to forget about Becky. Or when you threatened to leave and refused to help defeat Morgana and free Veronica. Do you think I wasn't tempted to 'make you?'" But I didn't do it. I _don't_ do that sort of thing. Maybe you don't like my methods, but I have moral limits, whether you believe it or not. And making you do something against your will crosses that line."

"Apparently lying isn't one of those moral limits."

"This isn't the same thing, Dave," his master replied. There was a patient quality to his voice that Dave was pretty sure was forced. "I don't consider myself your owner. I have the _ability_ to control you. And you're right. I didn't tell you. But you also have the ability to kill Bennet. That doesn't mean you'd do it. And it certainly doesn't mean you have to tell Bennet that you're able to kill him. You just use your moral compass and steer yourself in the right direction."

At Dave's continued silence, he added, "I would never steal your free will, Dave. I know what it's like to have someone control you."

Dave sat up at that, breaking his silence to ask the question that had been bothering him since his master's odd comment earlier. "Wait. What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Serf, Dave," Balthazar quickly interrupted, his voice gruff. "We were property."

Dave narrowed his eyes. "No. That's not what you meant. You brought it up before, when we talked about Merlin. But you said he didn't—"

"He didn't," Balthazar interrupted again, his response abrupt. "I had a master too, yet Merlin never forced me into anything. And he had the right and every reason to. Far more reason than I'd ever have to try and control you."

Dave refused to be deterred. "If Merlin didn't enforce it, then how do you know what it's like to have someone control you?" he asked suspiciously. "And don't say it's because you were a serf. That's not what you meant."

There was a long pause after those words before his master replied simply, "Just cool off, Dave. You're obviously too angry. It's making you paranoid."

"Wait. What?"

But he could already hear the sound of Balthazar walking away back toward the kitchen.

_Dammit, Balthazar. You and your stupid enigmatic comments and evasions. _He dropped onto his back once again, trying to work out what the hell his master had meant by that.

* * *

Dave lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he'd done for the past half hour, trying to ignore the sound of Balthazar messing around in the kitchen and the smell of Veronica's supper cooking.

He was only just now starting to cool off enough to realize that laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling was not going to solve anything. The realization of this fact hadn't prompted him to move, but it had pulled him out of his anger long enough to make him start paying attention to something other than his own, frustrated mind spinning its useless wheels.

Of course, as soon as his mind started focusing on something other than anger, he realized he had to pee, a small detail he hadn't factored in when he'd decided to stay holed up in his room until he'd cooled off some.

He pulled himself up on one elbow, considering whether or not it was possible to make it to the bathroom and back without Balthazar noticing, when he heard a sound from the living room. He held his breath, listening.

The apartment door had opened.

Dave tensed a moment, worried that Jacobus had followed them. That guy was just the type who'd take advantage of their distraction to follow them back to Baltahzar's apartment. He automatically began rubbing his thumb against the cool green stone of the dragon ring.

Sure, they'd set up wards, but was it possible that since Dave had let Jacobus through one set of his wards, that the sorcerer could get through _any_ that Dave had helped to set? Unlikely... but still...

There was a soft thud as the door finally shut.

Dave sat the rest of the way up in bed, ready to burst out of the room the moment it sounded like Balthazar was in trouble. Whether or not Dave was still angry, he wasn't going to allow Balthazar to be taken by that sadistic psychopath again.

He strained his ears to listen. His patience was finally rewarded when he heard voices out in the living room. One was female. Dave leaned back against his headboard feeling stupid. Of course it would be Veronica. He sighed, wishing he could just go out there, use the bathroom, and ask her how warding the lab had gone. Had Jacobus shown up? Had she added that identification ward she'd mentioned? He didn't dare join them, though. He was still too upset with Balthazar and he was afraid he'd blow up again. Dave really didn't want Veronica to have to see that. None of this was her problem.

Still... he hoped everything was okay. Maybe he could catch her if she came down the hall alone. Or he could poke out there for just a second and ask.

Balthazar's voice rumbled a touch louder just then, the very sound of it re-sparking Dave's anger.

He lay back down on the bed. Then again, maybe staying in his room would be a better idea after all.

He needn't have worried about it. A few minutes later he could hear Veronica's light footsteps approaching the door.

"Dave?" There was a soft knock. "Are you awake?"

Dave sat up, listening for a moment longer to be sure that Balthazar wasn't waiting in ambush beside Veronica. After hearing a cupboard slam in the kitchen, he finally responded. "Yeah. I'm awake."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." He slipped off the bed and walked over to the door, turning the lock and tugging it open for her. "It's your apartment," he added.

She smiled at him as she entered and made her way to the bed, smoothing out a section of the rumpled blankets and sitting down. After he closed the door and turned back toward her, she patted a spot beside her to sit.

He leaned against the wall facing her, arms crossed. He didn't need her to be motherly right now. He didn't know _what_ exactly he needed, but definitely not that. "I'll stand," he muttered, glancing away from her out the window. "So, how did warding go?" he asked.

"As expected," was her only reply. "How did class go?"

He smiled a little. "As expected." He turned his focus back to her, his smile spreading a touch. "Meaning, I got nauseous and bailed." He began fiddling with his ring. "What does 'as expected' mean for warding the lab? No Jacobus?"

She shook her head. "No. From what Balthazar tells me, he was too busy starting trouble with the two of you."

Dave snorted. "Yeah. Except this one wasn't all his fault."

"Really?"

The youth leveled a serious stare at her. "Look, Veronica. I know what you're doing. And I appreciate it. I really do. I don't _want_ to be mad at him. But he lied to me about this whole _controlling _me thing. He hid it for way longer than he realistically had to. And I _know_ that he's still hiding something."

"Hiding what?"

He sighed in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't know. I haven't got a stinking clue. But there's something else going on with this whole controlling thing that he doesn't want me to know. You'd think after how angry he _knows_ he made me over this whole thing, the least he could do is tell me the whole truth now. Would it really kill him to be honest with me?"

"I don't know," she replied. "It might."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Not funny."

Her voice was serious. "I'm not kidding. It might not be something he's able to do."

Dave made a face, finally walking over to the bed and sitting down beside her. "What are you trying to say? He's a compulsive liar? I don't buy that. He knows what he's doing."

"Of course he does." She turned her dark eyes to him. "But do you?"

There was something unnerving about that look in her eyes, and Dave had a funny feeling that he was going to wind up feeling like an ass when she was done explaining. It always seemed to go that way when he tried to argue a point with Veronica. Balthazar got angry, but Veronica... she just got to the point.

"Dave, did he tell you _why_ he lied to you?"

"Does he ever?"

She was quiet a moment, considering. "Balthazar doesn't make close friends."

"There's a surprise. Really? No friends? With his winning personality?" Dave's sarcasm fell flat. "Sorry," he muttered at her silence.

She continued as though he hadn't spoken, amending her words slightly. "He makes friends easily. He used to, at least," she conceded. "But he had very few people in whom he put his complete faith. In all our past together, I only know of three people he ever believed in completely."

Dave nodded. "You, Merlin, and Horvath."

"Yes." She studied the boy before her. "Dave... he lost all of us in one night."

"Yeah." He began fiddling with the ring again, refusing to make eye contact with her.

"You're the first person I think he's really grown close to since that night. And you've managed it despite what I'm sure was a determined effort on his part to keep distance between you. It's a safety net for him, and one he's used effectively for a very long time."

Dave winced, seeing now where she was going with this. "You're trying to tell me you think he's lying because he doesn't _want_ me to like him?"

She shook her head, surprise registering on her face. "No. Definitely not. I don't think he even means to do it. It's become like a reflex to him. He..." She hesitated, glancing away. Then finally she sighed and, in a very soft voice murmured, "He'll kill me for saying this..." She looked back up at him. "He's afraid, Dave."

Dave snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Think about it. You've gotten past his defenses. Whether he wants to or not, he trusts you."

Dave leapt to his feet and began pacing, trying to keep his voice down so he didn't get her into trouble with her husband. "You've got to be kidding me, Veronica! He lies to me all the time! What does he trust me with?"

She smiled faintly. "He trusted you with my life." That silenced him. "And he trusts you with small parts of his past."

"Which I have to pry out of him."

She studied him a moment. "Do you know how long it takes to soundproof a room, Dave?"

He stopped pacing long enough to turn and look at her, confused by the sudden change in subject. "It's like the wards, right?"

She shook her head. "No, Dave. It takes perhaps five minutes. Even in the state he was in last night, he could have told me that our room wasn't soundproofed."

"He probably just forgot. The Pentagram—"

"He wouldn't have forgotten that, Dave. You heard him without any defenses." She smoothed out some wrinkles in her skirt, choosing not to look at the boy as she spoke this part. "I doubt he expected the nightmares to come so soon. But he had to have known they would come. He ran the risk of waiting, and as a result he made himself vulnerable. Yet he made up no excuses that I heard this morning."

"Yeah," Dave replied softly. "He actually brought it up while we were at the lab. Discussed it with me a little. I thought that was weird, but you never know with him."

She smiled. "He doesn't hide everything from you. It's just going to take him a long time to open up. If you want to be his friend, you're going to have to accept that."

"I can handle that..." His expression hardened. "But this isn't the same sort of thing. He owns me, Veronica. He could control me if he wanted. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

She cocked her head to the side appearing somewhat perplexed. "Of course I do, Dave. So does he. Merlin technically owned both of us. Yet he never controlled us."

"You knew he wouldn't. It's _Merlin. _He wouldn't."

"Do you really think Balthazar would?"

Dave's lips tightened into a thin line. "That's not the point. He should have told me."

"Yes, he should have. Are you going to hold that against him?"

"I have every right to," Dave responded, defiantly.

Veronica's dark eyes were serious. "Yes. But _will_ you?"

The boy opened his mouth to snap out some sharp retort, then changed his mind, sighing deeply. "Of course not," he replied in a tired voice. "He's a good man—and a good friend—even if he _is _an idiot sometimes. I just wish..." He held his head with both his hands. "I don't know what I wish. I wish he didn't have to go through all that crap in the past so he'd be more normal now. So he wouldn't pull this shit with me all the time and we could just _be_ friends."

"Would he be the same person you care about if he were 'normal'?"

"No," Dave responded in a sulky voice. "But it sure would make things easier."

"Close ties aren't easy to maintain," she said, smiling. "They were never meant to be. That's why we remain close. Because we're willing to stand together, even against overwhelming odds." With that she stood and walked up to her husband's apprentice, resting her hands on both of his shoulders—looking him in the eye. "What you do is, of course, your choice. But you should know that he's as upset with himself as you are. He wants to talk to you about it, whether or not he admits it. And it's probably taking everything in him right now to keep from barging into this room to make you listen."

"At least he's not _making _me go out there," Dave grumbled, staring at some vague spot just past her head so he didn't have to meet her eyes. "I have to give him that."

"Dave," she said, moving into his line of vision once more. "I don't think that idea has even occurred to him." At those words, she finally pulled away and walked to the door. She tugged it open and mildly commented, "Dinner should be ready in about half an hour. Maybe sometime before then you could set the table."

Dave gave Veronica a pitiful look, knowing better than to just point out that Balthazar was currently banging around the kitchen. Obviously that was the point. When she didn't acknowledge his unspoken plea, he finally gave up, sighing. "Yeah," he muttered. "I'll set it."

She smiled at that. "Thank you." With those words, she slipped out the door and began walking down the hall toward her own room.

Dave wasn't surprised to note that she'd "forgotten" to close his door behind her. He moved to shut it, planning on waiting until the very last minute to actually set the table. Maybe if he had to rush, Balthazar would just leave him alone until after they ate.

He rested his hand on the door and began pushing it shut, then paused. And what good would waiting do him? They had to talk this through eventually. Everything finally sounded quiet in the kitchen, so maybe Balthazar had settled down and would let Dave just set the table in silence.

Dave snorted. Not likely. He shot one last longing look at his bed before sighing and stepping out of his room. He made a quick pit stop at the bathroom. Then, after taking a deep breath, he walked down the hallway toward the living room, and turned the corner to the kitchen.

Balthazar sat quietly drinking tea at the kitchen table, flipping through a cookbook.

"Planning on making dessert?" Dave asked, surprised that his anger had already faded so much.

Balthazar's head snapped up, his expression surprised for a moment before he dropped down his usual cool mask. "If you call boxed pudding dessert," he responded, "then sure."

Dave smiled faintly. "Veronica asked me to set the table."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Is that a hint that you want me to move?" He was already closing his book before Dave even responded.

The youth stared at him, surprised by how cooperative the man was being. Was it possible that he actually felt bad about what had happened? "No," Dave replied, surprising even himself. "We aren't eating for another half hour or so. I can wait."

His master nodded. There was an awkward silence, which Balthazar finally broke by asking, "So, then did you come here to ask about dessert or are you planning on at least sitting out here until the place settings beckon?" There was a faint flicker of a smile on his lips as he brought his teacup back up for another sip.

"Funny," Dave replied dryly, running his hand through his dark hair. He yanked out a chair and sat awkwardly.

Balthazar's blue-grey eyes studied him a moment. "Good. Do you want some tea?"

Dave shook his head. "Nah. You don't have to make more for me."

"Wasn't planning on it. There's some left in the pot. I made extra just in case. Should still be warm."

Dave's raised an eyebrow. "'Just in case?' You expected me to come out wanting tea?"

Balthazar snorted at that. "Veronica likes tea, too. Don't flatter yourself. And if neither of you wanted any, I'd just have finished it off."

Dave glanced over at the teapot by the stove. "Yeah, I'll have some." He stood and walked over to the cupboard, grabbing a big coffee cup and pouring the last of the tea into it. Then he yanked some honey out of another cupboard and began drizzling that in as well.

"Dave," Balthazar commented, "we have teacups."

The youth didn't even look at his master. "I'm not drinking out of one of those stupid little things. The coffee mug's fine." He glanced down at the open tea canister. It seemed much emptier than it had been the day before. "Balthazar?"

"Hmmm?"

"How much tea have you been drinking since we got back?"

"A couple pots. Why?"

Dave just gaped at him. "You do realize that tea has more caffeine in it than coffee, right?"

The older man smirked. "And _you_ do realize that I've been building up a tolerance for a few hundred years, right?"

Dave didn't have a response to that, so he just shook his head, stirring the contents of his cup and finally making his way back to the table where he dropped down in the chair. He took a long sip of the tea.

"Feeling better?"

Dave glanced up at him over the rim of the cup. "I'm drinking the tea because it was already made and I don't want you to drink any more and go into cardiac arrest, tolerance or not. It's not really a stress reliever for me."

"I wasn't talking about the tea, Dave."

The boy met his master's eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I kind of figured." He glanced away. "I'm a little better."

"Good."

Dave shot the old man a glare at that, "But I swear, Balthazar, if you ever try using that thing on me—"

His master's response was immediate. "I won't."

Dave sighed. "Just remember that, okay?"

The two men went back to drinking their tea in silence.

Balthazar began drumming his fingers on the cover of the closed book. "I don't know if I could, anyway," he said thoughtfully.

His apprentice just stared at him. "What?"

The older man studied him carefully. "You're the Prime Merlinian, Dave." He took another sip from his cup. "I assume I could. It's a very old, powerful magic binding us. Still... very few sorcerers have ever been as powerful as you are. I'm not sure how it works if the apprentice is more powerful than his master." He added thoughtfully, "I may have no control over you, anyway."

"Is there any way to test that?" Dave asked. "At least then I won't have to worry."

But his master just shook his head. "Short of me actually testing my hold on you? No."

"Ah." Dave watched the older man. The man's brow was furrowed and he looked tired. It suddenly occurred to Dave that this entire thing was actually bothering his master as much as it was bothering him. "Make me levitate the salt shaker," he said suddenly.

Balthazar's head snapped up. "What?"

"Test it." Dave's expression was earnest. "Then if you can't do it, we'll know and it'll be over with."

"No." The man set his teacup down hard on its saucer. "What happened to me never using it on you?"

The youth stared down at his tea, awkwardly. "I don't want you to use it on me. But this is obviously bothering both of us. If I let you just try it once, then we'll know. So, I'm giving you permission. This one time." He looked back up at his master. "Just make me levitate it."

Balthazar's expression hardened. "No. I'm not messing with this. Your inquiring mind is just going to have to deal with the uncertainty."

"Balthazar."

"You aren't getting it, Dave. This is what I've been trying to tell you. You don't have to worry about me using it, because I will never use it. Not even with your permission. _Never_. Do you understand?"

Dave blinked up at the man, startled. "Why? I thought that was just for my benefit."

"It's for mine, too. If I tried controlling you and it worked, it wouldn't just be you dealing with the ramifications. We would both know what it feels like. I have _never_ controlled anyone before. I don't intend to start now. I don't know what would happen."

"Happen?"

"Nothing." Balthazar's eyes predictably shuttered off at that, but not so tightly as usual. The man surprisingly seemed to be making a concentrated effort to stay at least somewhat open. He added hesitantly, "I just don't think anyone could be trusted utilizing that kind of power... even just to 'test things out.'"

"Not even you?"

"No, Dave. Not even me."

Dave didn't know how to answer that. It was the first time he'd ever heard Balthazar actually imply that he didn't trust his own control over himself. It was disconcerting. One of those little things that normal people did all the time. Yet coming from someone with Balthazar's power and capabilities, the thought of his master not being entirely in control of himself was almost frightening. Finally he just responded, "Okay. I guess we'll just assume you can, then." He managed a weak smile, trying to hide his discomfort. "Just keep your mind-powers to yourself."

Balthazar didn't smile, staring distractedly off into space.

"Balthazar?"

The man's eyes met his again. "Yes?"

Dave opened his mouth to speak, then shut it uncomfortably. A moment later he tried again. "Nothing. You just looked a little out of it. I was just wondering what you were thinking of."

"My own master."

"Do you miss him?"

"Miss him?" Balthazar stared at him. Then he shook his head as though to clear it. "Merlin," he said softly, almost to himself. "Do I miss Merlin? Sometimes. Yes."

"Do you wish he were still around?"

"Sometimes."

Dave studied the older man as scraps of a previous conversation came to mind. This was one of the most infuriating people he knew, yet still one of his closest friends. "Then why do you insist on leaving when you're done training _me_? Do you really think I _want_ you to go?"

"It doesn't matter what you want. All that matters is what's best for you." Balthazar's expression was grave. "The less time you spend with me, the better it will be for you in the long run. Trust me."

Dave made a face. "I don't buy that."

Balthazar was saved from having to respond to that by Veronica entering the room at that moment. "Did you leave any tea for me?" she asked.

Dave shook his head. "I can make more if you want."

But she just smiled. "That's fine. I should probably focus on supper rather than tea anyway."

"Oh, geez, that's right," Dave exclaimed, jumping up. "I was supposed to set the table. I'll get on that."

Veronica just laughed, opening the crock pot and checking the contents. The delicious scent of her cooking filled the room. "It's fine, Dave. The food isn't quite ready yet."

The boy hurried to the cupboard anyway, digging out plates, and Balthazar stood, scooping up the cookbook and walking into the other room to put it back on the bookshelf.

Dave began setting the plates on the table. "So, Veronica," he started, drawing her attention from the food. "Balthazar and I were talking about the whole master thing. I wondered what _your_ opinion is. Do you think he could control me even though I'm the Prime Merlinian?"

She had begun stirring the gravy, but paused thoughtfully at that. "I'm not sure. I hadn't really thought about it, but I'd assume so. The entire point of that magic is to keep errant students in check until they're capable of controlling their power. It seems to me that the more powerful the apprentice, the more important it would be to be able to exert that kind of control."

"So you think that Balthazar might even have _more_ control over me than normal masters?" Dave asked, his expression thoughtful.

She sent the boy a concerned look. "I don't know. But don't blame him for that. He's not the one who determines how strong that bond is." Her voice was a touch sharper than usual.

Dave raised his hands in mock surrender. "No. No, I wasn't trying to say that. I was just asking."

She nodded. "Well, that's what I assume. What did Balthazar say?"

"He didn't know. He thought I might be too strong for him to control."

She put the lid back on the crock pot and set the spoon down on the nearby spoon rest. "Well, neither do I. I can only guess." She opened a drawer and pulled out some silverware, handing it over to Dave. "Don't forget the napkins."

"Right."

As he finished setting the table, another thought struck him and he turned toward her once more. "Veronica?"

"Yes?"

He struggled for the right words. "You said the Pentagram controls your mind, right? Pulls dark thoughts out and stuff..."

Her expression grew very dark and serious. "Yes, Dave," she replied slowly.

"Does the Circle work the same way?"

Her eyes were unreadable. "It could, if misused. But Morganians can't lift the Circle, and Merlinians would never abuse it. If it _were_ somehow misused, the Circle would fade and the Pentagram would take its place. So, I suppose in theory, they are the same... but not in reality. In general, the Pentagram is used as a prison, the Circle as protection."

"Then how did Balthazar manage to get trapped where the Circle and Pentagram overlap? Why didn't the Circle protect him?"

"Because he didn't raise it."

Dave's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

Balthazar's voice came from behind them, startling Dave. "Because I couldn't. Jacobus trapped me with the Pentagram and then took my ring. I can't raise the Circle without it."

Dave turned to stare at his master. "And how did he get your ring?"

Balthazar stiffened. "What?"

"How did he get your ring quickly enough that you couldn't raise the Circle? I've seen you do it before. It doesn't take you long. I don't see how he could manage to get close enough to you to get the ring before you could even protect yourself."

Veronica took a step forward. "I never thought of that," she said slowly. "Why _didn't_ you defend yourself?"

Balthazar flinched. "I couldn't," he replied shortly.

Dave shook his head. "Why?"

"I just couldn't." He turned to leave the room again.

"Come on, Balthazar," Dave snapped. "We just got over the last issue and you're already hiding stuff again. We aren't stupid. We can tell that there's more to the story than that."

"Dave," the man growled, his back still toward them. "You don't want to know."

Veronica broke in softly, "Balthazar, we care. Of course we want to know."

"No," he replied softly. "You don't. Not even you."

"Balthazar," Dave tried again, "how are we supposed to help you deal with this guy if you won't let us know anything about him?" Before Balthazar could respond to that, he continued, "And don't tell me that I'm not getting involved. This nut job already involved me. You want me uninvolved, then we need to deal with this guy. And to do that, we need to know what's going on."

The older man turned to face them, appearing uncharacteristically torn. His eyes found his wife's. "Veronica?"

She shook her head. "Dave's right." She took a step toward him, her expression concerned, but still firm. "If you hide this, it isn't only Dave you're hiding it from this time. Would you lie to both of us about this?" Her eyes flashed. "How well would it weigh on you if Jacobus managed to take one of us as a result of our ignorance?"

Dave shot her a look, grateful that she was taking his side. There was no way around her logic. Fighting Veronica was like fighting a battle of wits, unarmed.

Balthazar's expression turned to stone. "Fine," he bit out through clenched teeth. "He made me give it to him, all right?"

"But, _how_?" Dave repeated.

"Because Merlin wasn't my first master," Balthazar said simply. "Jacobus was."

* * *

_Author's Note: First of all, please don't kill me! I know... I make you wait longer than usual only to give you another cliffie. At least I was nice enough to make it a great big long chapter though, right? ... Right?_

_*sigh*_

_Well, hopefully you at least liked the chapter._

_A great big thanks to my betas: kaytori, lolo popoki, and FrostPhoenix. And thanks and credit to kaytori for helping a great deal with some of the dialogue (and providing some great lines for me to work in here:D) Thanks! And, of course, thanks to all of you for reading and (hopefully) reviewing._

_Sirius:)  
_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: **

There was a moment of stunned silence before Balthazar spoke again, his eyes averted to avoid contact. "Now you have your answer. Am I allowed to leave now?" he growled. But his tone wasn't angry. To Dave's surprise, the man's voice seemed to be laced with an uncomfortable uncertainty.

"Balthazar..." Veronica started softly.

She was interrupted by Dave, who had finally gotten his wits together enough to blurt out, "_He_ used to be your master? Your old master tried to _torture_ you?"

"Not _tried_, Dave," Balthazar replied quietly. "_Did_."

"God... no wonder you went to Merlin with a crackpot like _that_ as your master."

"Dave. I didn't—"

But Dave wasn't even listening. He looked up at the older man. "So, what made him switch sides?"

Balthazar just stared at him. "What?"

"What made him pull a Horvath and go Morganian?"

The older man appeared for once to have been rendered speechless.

He was saved from having to explain that by Veronica who stepped up behind Dave and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Dave," she said so quietly that he had to strain to hear. "Jacobus was Morgana's apprentice, remember? He was Morganian from the start."

Balthazar's face was grim. "And so was I." His voice was cold and flat.

Veronica was silent.

Dave wasn't so tactful. "_What_? You were Morganian? "Geez, Balthazar, you—"

"—Lied to you. Yes, I know," the sorcerer snapped. Something in the older man's voice silenced the boy. "I get that it ticks you off," he continued. "You want to know _why_ I lie so much? Why I hide things? Because I've done things I regret. Things that I don't want you to know about. And one question inevitably leads to another." There was something harsh in his voice, but to Dave's surprise, he could also hear something else behind it.

Pain. Guilt.

And... panic? No, that wasn't quite right. But fear of some sort...

"Balthazar..."

"No," his master interrupted abruptly. "I don't want to hear it."

"_Come on_, Balthazar," Dave tried again. "It's not your—"

"Do _not_ tell me that it isn't my fault, Dave," his master growled. "You weren't there. You don't know the things I've done." He turned his back to them at that. "I'm leaving now."

"Balthazar," Dave started desperately, not liking how cold and distant the old man's voice was growing. "Let's just talk. Please."

"I let you stay in your room when you needed to cool off, Dave. The least you can do is allow me that." He glanced back, not meeting either of their eyes—his mouth open as though he were about to speak—but then he seemed to change his mind and instead just shook his head and walked away from them, down the hall.

"Balthazar!" Dave shouted, but the man was obviously done speaking with them. A moment later, the bedroom door slammed shut and the apartment fell silent.

"Dammit," Dave snapped, beginning to pace.

Veronica walked quietly to the sofa and sat down, her face expressionless.

He stopped, looking over at her. "Why didn't you say anything to him? Ask him to stay? Reason with him? He actually listens to you." He motioned a hand toward the hall. "Now he's just going to sit in there thinking that I'm mad at him and that you don't care."

"You _are_ angry with him."

"Of course I am," he replied testily. "But not because of his past. Or even because he hid it. I'm angry that he won't let me _tell_ him that I'm not angry." He winced at how stupid that had sounded.

But Veronica seemed to understand. "He wouldn't have listened to you if he'd have stayed. This is something he's managed to hide for over a thousand years. And this was one of the worst ways it could have come out. Of course he thinks we're angry with him. This is obviously something _he _hates about himself. If he can't forgive himself for it, why would he assume we could?"

"Because he's our friend," Dave responded quickly. "I'm not going to hold this against him."

"And how would he know that? You just holed up in your room for nearly an hour because he hid something from you. For him, this is probably far worse. What would _you _think if you were in his shoes?"

"So, this is _my _fault," the boy muttered glumly.

She shook her head. "No. I'm not blaming you. You had every reason to be angry before. And you have every reason to be angry now. But you aren't. That says a great deal about your friendship. I'm only trying to make the point that he's not in any shape to listen to us." Her eyes were sad. "Even to me. If I'd have tried reasoning with him, he'd have raised his defenses against me as well. At least now, he might speak with me about this when he calms down."

Dave stalked over to the sofa and dropped down into it next to her. "I hate it when you're right," he grumbled. He studied her a moment. Her face was impassive, but her hands were clenched together so tightly that her knuckles were going white. "You okay?" he asked, worried.

She glanced away. "I'm fine."

"You know, you're not such a great liar, yourself."

She didn't seem to have an answer to that.

They sat together in an awkward silence that seemed to stretch forever. Finally Dave spoke again. "How long do you think he's going to be in there?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him this upset in a long time."

"Yeah." He sighed. He began drumming his fingers on the arm of the sofa, trying to relax his frayed nerves. "I wish you'd have warned me about this. I know he has his privacy, but I wouldn't have pushed him so hard if I'd have—"

"I didn't know, Dave." Her voice was soft and quiet, her eyes fixed on her hands. "He never told me this before. He was already Merlinian by the time Horvath and I were apprenticed. This was between Balthazar and Merlin only."

"And Jacobus."

She nodded, wincing. "Yes. And Jacobus."

"Which is probably why he's after Balthazar now."

She nodded again. "And likely how Merlin knew that Jacobus had targeted Balthazar all those years ago. I'd expect that Jacobus and Gwen were trying to get Balthazar back."

Dave's eyes grew wide. "You don't think Jacobus is trying that now, do you?

"I'm not sure. But it would make sense."

"_Can_ he?" He floundered for a moment. "Like, can he _order_ Balthazar to join him?"

Her eyes met his. "I don't know. I've never met anyone with two masters before. You'd have to ask Balthazar what sort of control Jacobus has over him." She rested a hand on his arm before he could move. "Later."

He nodded. "Yeah." Thoughtfully, he added. "He has some control, I think. Balthazar said Jacobus made him give the ring over. And at the school, I'm pretty sure Jacobus made him agree to walk with him." He paused, thinking back. "But Balthazar managed to throw the control off somehow. Wonder why he could manage it there, but not at the lab."

She shook her head. "I don't know. He was trapped in the Pentagram. That would likely have made it harder. Especially if Jacobus began controlling him before the circle could be raised. And if Balthazar was tired from fighting, he'd have had more trouble defending himself against strong magic like that." She paused. "There are any number of reasons. The ring, for instance..."

"The ring?"

"Jacobus must have given Balthazar his ring. We can't take a new ring unless the original one is destroyed. There is a connection between sorcerer and ring that has to be severed first. And the second will never be as powerful as the first. It's very like the connection between apprentice and master. I'm sure Merlin would have insisted Balthazar keep the ring that Jacobus gave him. Something like that normally would have no affect on Balthazar. But at close range, and within the Pentagram... it might have given Jacobus an advantage." She shook her head again to clear it. "There are just too many factors."

Dave sat quietly a moment, trying to process this. Finally he spoke. "So Jacobus gave it to him. That must be how he knew which ring to take. I wondered."

"Which ring to take?" She appeared puzzled by those words.

"Yeah." Dave nodded. "Balthazar told me that's why he wears so many... to throw people off."

"Ah," she replied sagely. "I see. That wouldn't have worked on Jacobus, though, even if he hadn't been Balthazar's... master." She hesitated on that last word, obviously still uncomfortable having to make that connection to her husband.

Dave just stared at her. "Why? Balthazar said—"

"It would work on an apprentice or someone who's too busy fighting to pay attention, but not Jacobus. He's too observant. And to anyone who would take the time to look, the correct ring would be obvious." She held out her ring hand. "Watch," she said simply.

He said nothing, obediently staring down at the large violet stone set it silver on her slender finger.

She made a vague motion, beckoning to the cookbook that Balthazar had set on coffee table. It flew to her, gently landing on her lap. She took the book in her hands and rested it on the cushion beside her. Smiling at Dave, she asked, "What did you notice?"

"About which part?"

"My ring. If I'd been wearing ten, would you have known which was mine?"

He stared at her, suddenly understanding. "Yeah," he responded slowly. "It glowed. The rings always glow when we use them." He sighed. "I knew that," he muttered. "I just figured..." He trailed off in frustration. "So basically all anyone would have to do is attack him and watch which ring he uses to defend?"

She nodded. "Exactly. It was very clever of him to wear decoys. I notice he wears pins and a necklace as well. That makes it more difficult to pay attention to everything at once. It's distracting enough to buy Balthazar more time. Usually." Her eyes grew serious. "But some sorcerers... powerful ones... we will take the hit to keep our eyes on the ring."

At the word "we", Dave's eyebrows shot up. "You've done that before?" he asked. "Taken the hit?"

"We all have. One bad injury is worth finding out an adversary's weakness. Especially if there are two or three more of you to cover when you're down."

Dave snorted. "Let me guess... it was always you and Balthazar taking the hit?"

She appeared surprised. "Actually, it was usually Horvath. Neither of them would generally let me fall. And Balthazar was necessary for other tasks."

"Other tasks?"

But she ignored him to continue her thought. "That's how we learned that Gwen's focus was actually a stone set in the dagger she carried."

"And Jacobus' is a ring with a red stone..." Dave stood and began pacing again, irritated. "I saw it at the school. He doesn't even bother hiding it." His fists clenched. "Just like he doesn't hide the one he stole from Balthazar. He wears it like a trophy." He couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice.

"Not stole," replied Veronica quietly. "He just took back what was his." At Dave's scandalized expression, she added, "I don't like it either, but it's a fact."

Dave sighed, stopping again in his pacing and running a hand tiredly over his eyes. "It's like this whole mess keeps going from bad to worse."

She smiled faintly. "At least Horvath won't be a problem this time."

The youth snorted. "You don't know that. They could team up. That's about par for this week."

She shook her head. "They won't. Jacobus hates Horvath. He'd likely kill Horvath on sight."

At that Dave looked at her again. "Wait. Aren't they on the same side?"

"That doesn't mean anything," she said softly. "Morganians work for Morgana and themselves, not each other. Horvath took Jacobus' place as Morgana's second. Jacobus wouldn't have liked that."

"And he's arrogant enough to hold that grudge for over a thousand years." His expression darkened as a new thought struck him. "Good, then. Maybe Jacobus will do us a favor and save us the trouble of having to take them _both_ down."

_"Dave_." Her voice was sharp.

"Horvath tried to kill us all. If you don't want to take him down, then _I _will."

"He was our friend once."

"Not mine."

"But mine," she replied decisively. "And Balthazar's. Don't even think like that. If for no reason other than the fact that Balthazar considers you to be a pure source of good."

Dave rolled his eyes at that, opening his mouth for a quick retort, but she held up a hand before he could speak and continued. "He knows better than to really believe anyone is purely anything. But he _wants_ to believe it. He doesn't hold you on a pedestal by any means, but you represent something he can never be. Especially not with this in his past." Her voice grew quiet. "He needs something to believe in. Let him have this."

"He believes in you."

"Dave, these days he doesn't believe in much. You and I are changing that. But it takes time. He's lived for centuries with his only remaining hope lying with you. And a great deal of that hope faded over time. The fact that you've stood by him and done the right thing time and again, even in the worst situations, has done wonders for him. You've managed to heal more in him than you can possibly know. All I ask is that you don't show him your darker side. We all have it... but please don't let him see it. If not for me, then for him."

He took a moment to process those words. "'The price of immortality,'" he murmured quietly, thinking back to Balthazar's words.

"What's that?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Just something Balthazar said to me earlier." He locked eyes with her. "Fine," he said. "I'll be on my best behavior." He smiled faintly. "I don't think I could handle Balthazar becoming a bitter old man." He actually managed a small laugh at the mental image of his master as some cranky old man. Dave added, "He's bad enough as it is."

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you."

There was another awkward pause as they both considered their friend in the uncomfortable silence of the apartment.

Dave walked back over to the sofa and dropped down next to Veronica once more. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin resting on clasped hands. He tried to ignore the silence. Tried to think of something productive to say, or at very least something to alleviate the heavy blanket of worry that was smothering him.

"So, how long do you think he's going to be in there?" he finally blurted out.

Her startled eyes darted in his direction. "Dave?"

"I want to give him time," he clarified. "But I don't know..." He trailed off helplessly. "We bicker all the time, but the last time we really _fought_... we weren't even friends yet. I stormed off. When I came back I barely had enough time to stop Horvath from killing Balthazar. Our fight was obviously over at that point." He turned to stare helplessly down the hall. "We haven't had one real fight since then. Not _one_. But now we fight twice in one day?"

"Jacobus."

"Come again?" He turned back to Veronica's dark, steady gaze.

"Jacobus. You need to understand something about him. He and Gwen were Morgana's best. Gwen was the most deadly. Her methods of torture were horrific. Seasoned warriors would beg for death when facing her. But in many ways Jacobus was far worse."

"Because he plays mind games," Dave said. "Balthazar told me. I don't see how that's worse."

Her face was grim. "Nothing Gwen did to Balthazar ever broke him all those years ago. Merlin assured us of that. And for three weeks she did a great deal of damage. Even Merlin couldn't hurry much of the healing along without risking Balthazar's life. But even with all of that, he stayed intact. This time, however, in hardly more than a day, Jacobus has managed to isolate him from the people he cares about, even if it's only in his mind." Her eyes darted toward the hall. She took a deep breath. "Physical torture, Balthazar can handle. Broken bones are nothing. But if Jacobus manages to actually break him from the inside... How well do you think Balthazar will recover from that?"

The boy was silent.

"Dave," Veronica continued, a haunted quality creeping into her voice. "Do not take Jacobus lightly. Gwen wasn't the one who nearly tore Balthazar's mind apart. It was Jacobus. If anyone can break Balthazar... it will be him. And this time, he will be thorough about it."

The youth squeezed his eyes shut, trying to expel the myriad of unwanted mental images that Veronica's description had brought forth. His master broken and bleeding. Dead. Or mentally destroyed, which to Dave's surprise, he found to be the worst image of all, worse even than death. He felt sick. "How does he do it? I don't want him to have the chance..."

"He's already taken the chance we've unintentionally given him," she replied solemnly. "His methods are simple to start with. He divides people. Then, when they have no one left to help them, he plants doubt... fear... whatever works. He plays on memories and desires and guilt." Her dark eyes bore into Dave's as she repeated carefully. "But first... he has to isolate his prey."

Dave inwardly cringed. Balthazar had tried to warn him about this and they'd still fallen right into his trap. "Divide and conquer," he muttered. "I didn't even see it coming."

She took one of his hands in hers, surprising him out of his dark thoughts. "It isn't your fault. You've never faced him before. You'll learn. And if it's any consolation, Balthazar has let Jacobus get to him, and he knows that man better than any of us. All you can do now is to stand by him no matter what." She managed a weak smile. "And try to control your temper. Believe it or not, Balthazar has been struggling to do the same. He told me as much when I got back from warding the lab. He blames himself for the fight. He said he should have known better."

Dave shuddered, thinking back to exactly _why_ his master 'should have known better.' "I can't believe he grew up with that asshole and came out of it okay."

"Dave," she replied softly, "I don't think he was 'okay' when he got out. He's spoken of regrets. He obviously did things while training under Jacobus that still weigh on his heart..."

Dave paled before she could even finish her thought. "Oh, God," he said in quiet horror, suddenly understanding.

Her dark eyes widened with worry and she squeezed his hand tightly. "What's wrong?"

The sick feeling in Dave's stomach had just grown exponentially. "He murdered people, Veronica," he whispered. "Jacobus said something about Balthazar killing Merlinians. He never denied it." He looked back up to meet her eyes. "Jacobus made him murder people. Our people..."

"Balthazar..." Veronica breathed. "He hates needless violence. No wonder he's..." She took a deep, steadying breath. "I'll speak with him about that as well when he's ready."

"No," Dave replied firmly. "_We_ will talk to him when he's ready. This isn't just between you and him." Dave had gently pulled his hand from her grasp and had flopped back on the sofa, hands covering his face. "Ugh," he groaned, frustration creeping back into his voice. "But when will _that_ be? How long are we supposed to wait? It has to have been half an hour by now."

"How long were you locked in your room?"

"That was different," he replied through gritted teeth, still trying to banish a thousand nightmares from his mind.

"Because this time it's _you_ who's worrying rather than him."

Dave fell silent.

"Stay out here," she said in a quiet voice, gently resting a hand on his shoulder as she stood. "I'll see if he will speak with me yet."

The boy sat up straight at those words. "Sure."

She smiled. "It will be alright, Dave. He's a strong person. If they couldn't break his spirit back then, Jacobus won't manage it now." Her voice was warm and confident.

But Dave could read the uncertainty in her eyes. Balthazar was strong. But this had been the fourth—or was it the fifth—attack he'd withstood in less than twenty-four hours. Since the blatant episode with the Pentagram and the ring, each of the rest had grown clever and far subtler: the attack on Dave for instance had led to hints at murder and betrayal... and now to this. All of this yet until now Dave hadn't even realized that the real battle had already begun.

Veronica and Balthazar were right. Gwen may have been terrifying, but Jacobus was the real threat. And he was already wearing Balthazar down.

"Don't worry," Veronica said, clearly and accurately reading his expression.

He nodded and sent her a weak smile.

She returned it.

Both felt fake.

Just as she turned to leave, Dave stopped her. "Veronica, wait."

She paused in the entrance to the hall. "Yes?"

He took a deep breath. "Just tell Balthazar I'm sorry, okay? I'm not mad. I don't blame him for any of this. Will you do that?"

"Of course." Her back was still to him, but he could hear the smile in her voice. This time it felt real.

"Thanks."

She silently left. Dave settled into the sofa just hoping that she'd hurry. He had the uneasy feeling that Jacobus was just warming up, and Dave wanted to be sure that Balthazar would still be able to fight back. Because if Jacobus pushed him too far. If he managed to break Balthazar down...

Dave's eyes darkened.

If he hurt Balthazar at all, then Dave was going to show Jacobus just what the Prime Merlinian was capable of.

Or he'd die trying.

* * *

_Author's Note: Thanks to kaytori and lolo popoki for their beta work... on both drafts. And thanks to you for reading. Sorry the chapter is so short. Maybe a longer one next time:P_

_Dewa mata!_

_Sirius  
_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

Dave had been staring blankly at the same page of his Incantus for the past twenty minutes waiting for Balthazar and Veronica to emerge from their room. He couldn't imagine what was taking so long. It wasn't like either of them had reacted badly to the man's past. Sure, Dave had asked questions. And he'd certainly been surprised. But the surprise should have been a good thing. It proved that whatever Balthazar may have done, he'd changed so much in the past 1,500 years or so that no one would ever have been able to see him as anything but a Merlinian.

So, why had Balthazar reacted so badly?

Dave sighed, knowing the answer: Jacobus. And whatever things he'd made Balthazar do. Veronica was right. Obviously Balthazar was still having trouble coming to terms with his own past. If _he_ still felt guilty about it, then why wouldn't he expect _them_ to judge him as well?

_Because we're your friends, dammit. We care about you whether you like it or not._

Dave's grip tightened on the heavy book that rested on his lap. _This_ was what that psychopath had brought Balthazar to. Holed up in his room, not trusting that the two people who cared the most about him could accept what he had been.

He glared down at the book, turning to another random page so he could stare blankly at something else for a change. Pictures of healing herbs were getting boring. After a few flips, he came to a new chapter that he'd never noticed before: _Lives of Sorcerers_. He paused at that, then turned the next few pages, studying them as well. The entire chapter appeared to consist of an several columns of nearly microscopic names categorized under the divisions: Merlinian, Morganian, Divided Alliance, Independent. Dave's brow furrowed. It felt like a voting ballot. His eyes scanned the extensive list. A majority of the names had thin lines through them with a small date printed neatly to the side. Merlin and Morgana Le Fay were two of the top names with the dates 740 A.D. and 2010 A.D. marked after them respectively. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the lines and dates meant. His eyes scanned the list. Jacobus Hart, Gwendolyn Hart, and Maxim Horvath followed shortly after Morgana; a line ran through Gwen's name with the year 1842 A.D. marked close behind. The list of surviving Morganians was surprisingly short, even after Dave began flipping through what seemed like an endless number of pages. A cursory glance at the much smaller lists of the mysterious Divided Alliance and Independent factions showed very few survivors as well. There was a reason that no one believed in magic anymore.

He flipped back to the beginning, studying the Merlinian list this time. Of course the names Balthazar Blake, Veronica Blake, and David Stutler were listed near the top. Dave stared at his own name for a moment, printed in small, elegant lettering. It always felt strange for him to see his own name written in the ancient book. His eyes skipped back to his master's. Very faintly, as though it had been rubbed out, was the date 2010 A.D. beside Balthazar's name. Dave winced, thinking back to that day. His eyes roved further down the list. Turning the page, he skimmed further. The boy's brow furrowed, as he continued flipping. "Geez..." the boy whispered, finally stopping after ten pages or so. With the exception of their own names, every other Merlinian had been crossed out. Balthazar hadn't been kidding when he'd told Dave that they were the last left. If there _were_ any others, they were few and terribly far between. And, since the names appeared to be categorized by strength, any survivors who might exist obviously weren't particularly powerful.

A disturbing thought struck him then. How many of those people had died at Balthazar's hand? How many had been murdered... Balthazar's victims by Jacobus' decree? Dave closed his eyes, feeling sick.

He flipped back to the first page once again, studying first Jacobus' name, then Balthazar's. Once upon a time, Balthazar would have been somewhere in the other column. It was strange to think of his master practiced in dark magic. Killing good people. "What did he do to you, Balthazar?" he whispered, brushing his finger over the tiny print. To Dave's surprise, there was a soft green glow to the letters of both Balthazar and Jacobus's name that flared with the dragon ring, and before Dave could even register what was happening, there was a flash so bright that Dave was forced to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, it was as though an image of a dark room were superimposed on the apartment around him, looking something like a photographic double image. He shook his head. _What the hell _is_ this?_

His eyes scanned the room, and to his discomfort he realized he was near a cell. Some kind of dungeon? There was a loud crackle of energy just around the corner, followed by a flash lighting up the far wall and a short cry of pain. By the sounds of it, he wasn't alone. A familiar voice rang coldly in his ears. "Just give up and we'll be done with it."

The weak voice of a woman responded hoarsely, "The hell I will." It was followed by a chilling scream.

"I'll end it quickly if you just cooperate."

"Do your worst."

There was a long pause before he responded in a flat, unconcerned voice, "If that's what you want."

Another scream. This one sounded like it could go on forever.

Dave tore his hand away from the book and the image abruptly disappeared, taking with it the cry of agony. The youth sat there, shaking, trying unsuccessfully to block out what he'd heard. The cool, commanding voice had been much younger, but Dave would have known it anywhere.

Balthazar.

Dave dropped the Incantus on the table with a heavy _thud_ and sat back on the sofa, trying to get as much space as he could between himself and scene. Jacobus hadn't just made him kill. Balthazar had been forced to torture as well. "Geez, Balthazar," Dave whispered to himself. "What else did he make you do?"

He didn't have a chance to consider that. Balthazar entered the room just then, his expression stone, and Dave barely had enough time to take a deep breath and try to mask some of the horror from his own eyes. He knew he'd never be able to hide it from Balthazar, but maybe the man would be distracted enough by his own thoughts not to notice. Dave hoped so. He didn't want to explain. Certainly not before he had time to fully process what he'd heard.

The older sorcerer was followed by Veronica who appeared somewhat more at ease than she had before she'd gone in to speak with him. It was an improvement, Dave had to admit, small though it may be. It implied that her husband must have at least let her reason with him. Hopefully.

"I'm shutting off the crock pot," Balthazar announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. The words were casual as though nothing were wrong, but his voice was carefully level.

"Already did it while you were in your room," Dave responded. "Dinner might be a little well done, though. I only thought of it like ten minutes ago."

Balthazar stopped and sighed, before turning slowly back to face them.

"Thank you," Veronica said quietly, sitting on the sofa next to Dave.

Her husband's expression was blank. "Yes. Thank you." He didn't sound very grateful, and Dave actually felt a little guilty, suddenly realizing that he'd managed to kill Balthazar's last chance at composing himself before their talk.

The older man walked over to the armchair and dropped into it heavily, his eyes drifting everywhere but to their faces. They landed on the Incantus. Immediately, he looked up at Dave, abruptly meeting his eyes and taking the boy by surprise. "Pleasure reading?" he asked, an odd tone to his voice.

"Just killing time," Dave responded awkwardly. It was his turn to look away now.

"Find anything interesting?"

Dave coughed. "Define interesting," he responded carefully.

Balthazar tensed at those words. Obviously that wasn't the answer he'd hoped to hear.

Veronica's expression was confused as her eyes traveled from one man's face to the other's. "What's going on?" she asked carefully.

Balthazar didn't answer her, his eyes still fixed on his apprentice. "How about astral projection interesting?"

Dave finally locked eyes with his master. "Astral... what?"

The older man's eyes were tired and his face tense. He had an almost haggard look to him and it made him appear years older. Dave hated what all of this seemed to be doing to his friend. It had obviously been psychologically hurting him from the start, but now it seemed to be taking a physical toll on him as well. His weary eyes were sharp, though, and they bore into Dave's own. "What did it show you, Dave?"

Dave flinched. "Do we need to get into it now?"

"Yes."

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Dave," the man's voice was eerily quiet, his words carefully measured out, "What did you see?"

Dave swallowed hard, making one last attempt to avoid details if nothing else. "I didn't see anything but a cell, Balthazar."

"Then what did you hear? The Incantus doesn't just show you empty cells, Dave. Especially not that chapter."

"Balthazar," Veronica cut in, her voice quiet but firm. "Is it necessary for you to know?"

"It's my past we're talking about. I already know all of the details," the older man replied simply. "I just wondered which ones he saw." He finally looked away. "But since he won't answer, I'm sure I can narrow it down." He leaned back as though making himself more comfortable. "Was it someone I killed," he asked, his voice dead and flat, "or someone I broke?"

Veronica winced at those words.

"I didn't get that far," Dave responded honestly. His eyes dropped down to the book to avoid having to read his master's reaction on his face. "I dropped the book when she started screaming."

Veronica closed her eyes tightly at that, an unintelligible whisper escaping her lips.

"You see, Jacobus doesn't lie," Balthazar responded quietly. "He doesn't need to. The truth is bad enough, isn't it?"

"It isn't your fault," Dave protested, abruptly looking up at the man again. A defensive fire in his eyes.

"What did I tell you about that? It was my choice."

"He made you kill people."

"And I chose to join him."

Dave was silent for a long moment before responding. "You... what?"

The man's blue gaze was steady. "I chose to join him," he repeated.

"Care to elaborate on that?"

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't clear enough? Did you think he kidnapped me from my village? Lured me with candy and presents?" He smiled faintly at Dave's evident irritation, but there was no humor to it. "I was a serf, Dave. I was property, bought and sold with the land my family worked, just like some little shack or fence. We had nothing. So when powerful men came through our village, it was a big deal and we watched them. Envied them."

Dave stared at his master in surprise. Balthazar wasn't one to give information freely unless he'd been pushed to the point where it had to be said. Dave remembered very clearly how it had been like pulling teeth to get the man to tell him about Veronica when they'd had to face Morgana. He studied the older man critically. Then again, once Balthazar had hit that point, everything had come out. Apparently Jacobus had managed to push him that far. Dave watched his mentor, concerned. He didn't like the thought of Balthazar having been to that point already... but at the same time, it was a relief that he was finally letting them in.

The older man continued, his voice quiet but strong. "Powerful sorcerers can sense magic about a person if they're looking. It's radiates off of us strongly, even if we don't have a ring. It's that much a part of us." His eyes were steady. "A rich sorcerer rode through our village one day, claiming he was looking for someone. The Morganians had been through months before seeking lodging before an attack, and some of us had come into contact with them in the market. He'd apparently seen me and sensed what I could do, and so he'd sought me out. Made me an offer I couldn't resist."

Even though Dave could clearly see where this was going, his hand tightened on the arm of the sofa as he listened, his stomach in knots. He couldn't tear his eyes from the old man, feeling a sort of sick fascination with the story.

Balthazar leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped. "He offered to take me in and train me. Turn me into a powerful sorcerer. I would never have to work the land again. Would no longer be property. I'd be his apprentice, and he would give me the power to be free."

"He lied to you," Dave said quietly.

"Of course he did." A grim smile graced the old man's lips. "And I knew it when I joined him. But what difference did it make if someone new owned me? This man at least was a noble. I might live in a castle. I might have work that wouldn't kill me by the age of thirty. And maybe he really _would_ train me in whatever it was that he did. I had more chances with him than I had in my village. So I let him have me."

Dave shook his head, trying to process this. Still not quite understanding why Balthazar seemed to be laying so much guilt on himself for this mess. "I don't blame you. I mean, you obviously didn't have much of a choice. And it wasn't like you knew what you were getting into."

The older man leveled a steady gaze at the boy. "I had a choice, Dave. We always have a choice. Maybe I didn't understand the details of what he did, but I knew he was Morganian. I didn't have a solid idea of what that meant—I only knew they were one faction in some war that occasionally crossed our path—but I did realize that the other side had never harmed us, whereas this man's people had killed men in my village. And knowing this, I still chose to join him, because I wanted out.

"We took the oath and to my surprise, he trained me as promised." Balthazar stared down at the Incantus, but his eyes seemed unfocused as he remembered. "At first it wasn't so bad," he said. "He taught me the same sort of things that I taught you, and I picked them up quickly. We progressed to physical combat and more elaborate magic. I was actually enjoying myself." His eyes darkened. "Then he decided to test me." The older sorcerer looked back up at Dave, his expression haunted. "There was an old man in my village. He did nothing but beg in the street. He was no sorcerer. No threat to anyone. Jacobus told me to kill him. I refused, and Jacobus made it an order." He closed his eyes, his jaw tensed as he tried to keep his expression as blank as possible. "I killed a man in broad daylight and no one said a word. They were all too afraid of me. Jacobus hadn't lied about that. I had power, only he controlled it. That's when I realized that I'd sold him my soul when I'd stepped into the Pentagram with him." His eyes opened again and met Dave's. Quietly he added, "Didn't I tell you there were worse ways to find out how the Oath works?"

"Balthazar," Veronica breathed.

Dave wouldn't make eye contact, remembering his own harsh words at his master's decision to hide those details. Yes, Dave had been justified in being angry, but suddenly in comparison to Balthazar's own past, he could understand why his master hadn't considered keeping the details hidden to be such a bad thing. How bad was a secret, even a big one like that, in comparison to driving a child into hell? Dave's anger at Jacobus flared once more. "You didn't know what you were doing," he protested again, still unwilling to lay the blame on his friend, even though he found he still wasn't quite able to hide the horror in his voice.

The old man's eyes darkened. "I knew more than you did when you stepped into the Circle with me. I had seen sorcery. It wasn't a fairy tale for me." His lips twitched into a cold smile, his voice half-dead. "It was war."

That silenced the boy.

"After I proved to them that I could kill," the old sorcerer continued quietly, "both Jacobus and Gwen taught me more creative ways to deal with enemies. How to defeat other sorcerers. How to break them. Jacobus meant it when he told you the things I've done. I murdered hundreds while under him."

"Balthazar," Veronica cut in, her voice pained. "It's the past. You've changed since then."

Dave had balled his hands into fists, clenching them so tightly, he could feel his nails biting into the flesh of his palms. Furious with Jacobus for doing this to his friend. Angry at Balthazar for as usual taking the blame. "And it isn't like you chose to kill people. Or torture them," he growled out through clenched teeth, somehow managing to hate Jacobus more now than ever. "He made you do it. Just like he made you hand over the ring. You're blaming yourself for the things _he_ forced you to do. It's not the same—"

At that, the older man's stony mask cracked. It was only for a moment, but the flash of guilt in the Merlinian's eyes made Dave's blood run cold. "I was under Jacobus for five years, Dave," he said quietly. "He stopped forcing the Oath on me after two." He studied his apprentice quietly as he gave those words a moment to sink in.

"Wait..." Dave said, confused. "Then for three years—"

"I killed of my own accord." He clenched his hands more tightly. "I told you before, Dave. I was Morganian. I knew what I was doing, and I was fully aware that he wasn't making me do it anymore, but it didn't matter. It's what I knew, and I saw nothing wrong with it. I never _liked_ doing it, but I never much liked farming either. It had all become second nature to me, something that I just did without guilt or shame. I was no better than any of them."

"Obviously you were," Veronica protested quietly, "because you're here with us. And clearly Merlin saw that. He trusted you with his secrets, Balthazar. With his life."

Balthazar's eyes met hers. "He trusted Horvath, too."

"You aren't like Horvath," Veronica responded confidently. "You never were, even then. I'm certain of that." She stood and walked over to her husband, half sitting on the arm of his chair, so she could wrap her arm around him. Her other hand tightly clasped one of his.

Balthazar looked away, unwilling to meet her gaze. The only sign that he was even listening was the way he gently squeezed her hand in response.

"Balthazar," Dave started, managing somehow to keep his voice steady, trying to pick his words carefully from the chaos in his head. "Horvath traded sides because he was mad at you. He threw a tantrum and killed people even though he knew another way and had been fighting for Merlin for, what... a couple _hundred_ years. And he did it just because the girl he liked started dating his best friend." He shook his head, staring seriously at his mentor. "How is that at all the same as a kid doing the only thing they know after spending two years with no other choice? I don't care if you _chose_ to join Jacobus, you didn't know what you were choosing. You didn't know anything." At those words, he added quickly, "No offense."

The old man stared at the youth, his face expressionless. "Dave, did I really give you any more information than that when you took the Oath with me?"

Dave defiantly met his eyes. "Yes you did. Maybe not with words, but I had a really good idea of what the difference between a Merlinian and a Morganian was before I joined you."

Balthazar snorted at that, but Dave didn't back down. "Morganians," he responded through clenched teeth," try to kill people with wolves or fire." He motioned with his hands as though that would help show the magnitude of their evil. "They make dragons attack people, even when there are innocent bystanders around." He studied his master carefully before quietly adding, "Merlinians help an injured pigeon on a rooftop after a battle. Or they turn puppies into pictures before a train can kill them. Did you think I didn't notice that stuff? I may have been scared out of my mind and I may have thought you were insane, but that isn't stuff that even the 'good guys' normally think of doing in that situation. It kind of jumped out at me." His expression was serious. "So no, Balthazar. You didn't tell me what I was getting into, and that was a shitty thing to do, but the fact is that I'm not stupid and I wouldn't have made any deal with you if I didn't already have a pretty good idea of what kind of person you were, crazy or not."

Balthazar said nothing.

"And like Veronica said, Merlin obviously figured that much out, because he took you as an apprentice. You must have done something to get him to trust you."

"No, Dave. I didn't," Balthazar responded simply. "I was injured. That's all. I was nearly killed in a battle and Merlin decided not to let me die. I don't know why, but he did. And even after he saved me, it took him a long time to change my mind about things. This wasn't a simple matter of take me in and raise me as one of his own. I was pretty far gone by then. If he hadn't taken my ring from me, I'd probably have tried something stupid that would have gotten me killed anyway."

"But you did change," Veronica said gently.

"Anyone will change when given enough time. Merlin was patient and I was unarmed."

There was a long awkward silence at those words. Finally Balthazar cleared his throat, gently squeezing his wife's hand and slipping her arm off of his shoulders so he could stand. "I think that's enough of a history lesson for today," he responded gruffly, the unusually quiet tone leaving his voice even if the haunted look still lingered in his eyes.

"Sure," Dave responded, annoyed that his master still didn't seem to get that it was okay, but trying to remind himself that it had already been a huge concession for Balthazar to even tell them this much. It would be asking for a miracle to expect the older man to actually acknowledge the fact that he was judging himself too harshly.

"Good." He bent to grab his wallet off of the coffee table. "Then since I'm no longer needed, I'm going to the store."

Dave and Veronica just stared at him. "You're what?" Dave asked, confused. Where the hell had _that_ come from?

Balthazar's expression turned sour. "Are you going to make me repeat everything today? I said I'm going to the store."

"I heard you," Dave replied irritably. "I just don't get _why_. Veronica and I went shopping yesterday, remember?"

"I need tea."

"I bought your tea. It's on the counter. We drank some earlier, remember?"

"I need tea to sleep," Balthzar clarified, walking toward the door. He began putting his shoes on. "The stuff you bought has caffeine in it. It won't work. There's a reason I didn't get any rest last night."

Dave managed to keep himself from pointing out the other reason Balthazar hadn't slept. "For God's sake, Balthazar," Dave finally snapped. How had this seriously just become a priority? "It's tea. Tea's tea. It's just dead plants in hot water." It was amazing how even after such a serious discussion, Balthazar could so quickly get on his nerves again with his ridiculous idiosyncrasies.

"We'll go with you," Veronica cut in, standing.

"I'm capable of going to the store by myself."

"No." Dave stood, walking around the coffee table so he could approach his master. "You're not going alone with that maniac on the loose."

Balthazar straightened, yanking his hat off the small rack by the door and dropping it on his head. "I'll be in a public place the entire time. There's no chance of him taking me by surprise."

Dave stepped up to Balthazar, looking him straight in the eye. "No."

"Do not argue with me. You aren't coming." A fire flashed in the old sorcerer's eyes, but it faded as quickly as it had come. To Dave's surprise, Balthazar replied honestly, "I need space, Dave. Let me get the tea and I'll be back. I'll have my phone in case you have a panic attack and need to call. Stay here."

"Let him go." Veronica's quiet voice took both men by surprise, and they turned to stare at her.

Balthazar's expression was impassive, though there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. Dave openly gaped. "But—"

"Balthazar's right," she continued. "He needs space. We've been crowding him since you returned from the school. Let him go." She approached her husband and wrapped her arms around him. "Just be careful," she replied quietly. "No matter what you seem to think of yourself, the world can't afford to lose you. And neither can we." She kissed him gently on the cheek.

Dave sighed. "Fine," he bit out. "Go. Your keys are still on the table."

"I'm walking. I need the fresh air."

"Balthazar..." Dave started, but he trailed off when he caught the warning look on Veronica's face. God, he hated when she wasn't on his side...

The older sorcerer returned his wife's kiss. "I'll be fine," he assured her. There was something still distant about his eyes, though. A strange look that Dave didn't like.

He waited until Balthazar was out the door, before he went over and grabbed his own shoes, throwing them on. "I'm following him," he announced. He tightened the laces and tied them off. "You can't stop me," he added, straightening and reaching for the doorknob.

"I don't intend to."

He stopped at that, turning to look at her. "Wait... What?"

Her expression was firm, not the gentle wife Dave had seen only moments before, but instead the clever negotiator that she also was. "He wouldn't have let you come, Dave. It was a wasted argument. Now you can follow him and he'll expect me to keep you back." Her eyes were dark and serious. "I don't trust him alone with Jacobus out there any more than you do."

Dave nodded, relieved that they were still on the same wavelength. "Right. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Just go. Keep him safe."

"Right." And with that Dave was out the door, leaving her alone to her thoughts.

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry about the wait on this chapter. Hopefully the new one won't take so long for me to complete. Anyway, thanks to kaytori and lolo popoki for their beta work and thanks to all of you for reading. I hope you enjoyed. And I'd love it if you reviewed!_

Dewa mata!

Sirius:)


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

Balthazar had only made it a few blocks down the road, when he turned down a small street and headed for a park the opposite direction of the store. He moved quickly, passing the benches full of people out enjoying the last remnants of the early evening sun, until he came to a more secluded area surrounded by trees. There he stopped, looking around.

He didn't have to wait long.

"I'm impressed, old man," came a familiar voice from a nearby bench. Jacobus stood and approached his old apprentice. "You're still managing to fight me, aren't you? I've been waiting at least half an hour." His lips curled into a cold smile. "I was getting bored. If you'd have taken much longer, I'd have had to start entertaining myself, and if I recall, you were never too fond of my entertainments, were you?"

"What do you want, Jacobus?" Balthazar snarled. "I'm here. Talk."

"What's the hurry? Walk with me. We have some catching up to do."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You only have me here because I didn't bother fighting the command. You want to talk? We'll talk. But I'm not going to follow you."

With those words, Jacobus's icy eyes flashed. "Really?" he hissed. "I think you will. This isn't even a matter of my control over you, old man. If you don't come, your boy will die without even realizing that I know he's here."

Balthazar stiffened. "Dave..." he growled under his breath.

"It's so cute how worried about you he is. It would be a shame if such faith and devotion ended in his death." He flashed a grin at Balthazar that didn't quite reach his calculating eyes. "Now, we've only got a few things to discuss. We'll remain in the park and no harm will befall either of you if you come. If you refuse, I make no promises. It could be the Battle of Salisbury all over again. They never did get the blood out of those old stones, did they?"

"Jacobus..."

"Remember, if you're a good boy, you both get out of here alive. If not..." He shrugged carelessly.

"I'm coming."

The black-haired sorcerer's amused expression didn't waver. "I know." He began walking, not even bothering to check if Balthazar was following. "You realize, Balthazar, that you do have another option. You could simply order the boy to go home. _Make_ him leave and he'll be safe. And then you can go back to wasting your strength by fighting me over a simple thing like taking a walk."

"I'm already walking, Jacobus. Leave Dave out of it," Balthazar bit out through clenched teeth, trying not to think of the hundred ways he was going to punish his apprentice himself.

Jacobus chuckled. "I see you're still trying not to control the boy. How long will that last, I wonder."

"It's worked pretty well for me so far."

The Morganian sighed, motioning for Balthazar to walk up beside him. "Come along. I hate people lagging behind. It makes conversation so difficult." As soon as Balthazar came up to his side, Jacobus clapped Balthazar on the shoulder as though they were old friends, and commented lightly, "See, now isn't that better?"

For one split second, Balthazar's face contorted in pain at the physical contact.

Jacobus took notice and stopped, pulling back. "Oh dear, I'd forgotten about that shoulder," he commented, his voice ringing with mock concern. "Still hasn't healed up since yesterday, has it?" He smiled faintly, "I do hope it isn't broken. You weren't looking so good when I left."

"Go to hell."

"Now, old man, I don't think you're quite understanding the position I have you in. If your boy makes one wrong move, he dies. If you make one wrong move, he dies. So, if I were you, I'd watch my tongue. I don't care if you think he has anything to do with me or not. He has to do with you and that's enough. Send him away and he's safe. You're risking his life with your little Merlinian honor system." He began walking again, motioning for his apprentice to join him.

Balthazar glared daggers at the man. He forced himself to ignore the pain that screamed through his damaged shoulder . He sped up to keep pace with the man, and replied tightly, "I'm not stealing his free will, Jacobus. If that's what this is about, then our conversation's over."

"You own him, Balthazar. And from the look on his face earlier, I don't believe he was informed of that small detail. I believe it's universally agreed that taking something from someone without their permission is, in fact, stealing."

"He makes his own choices, and he always will, even if that choice leads him away from me. He may be mine by a technicality, but he is not my property and he never will be. You're wasting your breath."

The smooth Brit didn't seem remotely disturbed by his old apprentice's response. "Right, then. I can't help but wonder what he'd do if I tried to kill you now right in front of him? What do _you_ think?" His pale eyes twinkled brightly. "Personally, _I_ expect he'd foolishly try to attack me. And what would you do then? Would you let me kill him to protect his 'free will' or would you order him back to save his life?"

"I don't need the oath to keep him away from you, Jacobus."

"Really? Then tell me, Balthazar. Why is he here?"

A muscle tightened in the Merlinian's jaw. _Dammit, Dave. For once could you have listened to me? Just _one_ blasted time? If he kills you... _ Balthazar fought to keep his face impassive. "You gave your word, Jacobus. I walk with you and neither one of us comes to harm. I'm walking, so let's talk."

Jacobus' lips curled into a small smile, ignoring his old apprentice's words. "If you're so concerned about his rights, then why don't you just break Oath with him? It seems to be a simple solution if this is so important to you."

"It's not that easy, Jacobus. You know that."

"Of course it is," the Morganian chuckled. "You just don't want to give him up."

Balthazar had no answer, instead silently glowering at the man beside him.

After a few long moments of silence, Jacobus sighed the way a parent would respond to a defiant child. "As you wish. It's delightful, really. Watching you struggle against your nature. I know what kind of man you really are at your core. Merlin may have trained you to be his good little boy, but you certainly didn't fight _my_ methods very hard either. And now that your great Merlin is dead and you've finally failed at keeping your distance from me, I wonder how long you'll be able to hold up against my control over you..." He trailed off at that, tipping his hat pleasantly at a young lady walking her dog who passed them on the path.

"Your point?" Balthazar growled, growing tired with the Morganian's games. "Or do you not have one?"

"Bah, you're no fun. All work and no play. It's been years since we've had time to chat. I thought we could reminisce." He glanced fleetingly at the man beside him. "If you're worried about your young ward finding out your deep, dark secrets, you needn't bother. He can't hear us. I've made sure of that."

"I'm not hiding anything from him."

"Really?" For once Jacobus looked genuinely surprised. "And your little pet's still following you? How naive of him. And how out of character for you. Hiding things was always one of your best qualities. If I recall correctly, that's what Gwen liked so much about you." He smirked, his voice taking on a cold, dangerous quality as he mentioned his wife's name. "What good is it to have a prisoner if he breaks before you've had any fun with him?"

Balthazar said nothing, merely glaring at his old master.

Jacobus sighed. "Fine. We'll get down to business, then. The point that you've been so adamantly requesting is that I want you back." He held up a silencing hand and continued before Balthazar could speak, choosing to ignore the enraged look in the Merlinian's eye. "Now, I've decided to be generous and give you one more chance to make this easy. You see, not to sound cliche, but you have two options: the easy way and the hard way. The easy way is where I distract your boy, and we simply continue walking out of this park. The hard way is where I force your return, I break you, and then I leave you to rot. Either way, I get you back. The choice is yours."

"I'm not returning to you, Jacobus. I'll die first."

Jacobus' eyes narrowed and the amused tone shifted slightly, growing cold. A malicious glint flashed in his eyes. "That can be arranged, though it seems a bit generous," he replied coolly. You see, I still owe you for the murder of my wife. And allowing for your death would be too kind."

Balthazar stiffened, having known it would come to this. He'd been waiting for it since the moment Jacobus had returned. There was a reason they'd played cat and mouse for so long, and it hadn't only been for Balthazar to avoid Jacobus' control. Until Gwen had died, Jacobus had occupied himself with more important concerns than his old apprentice. However, for the past couple hundred years since she'd been buried, the Morganian had shown a renewed interest in his old protege. "So," he replied, forcing himself to remain calm, "we go back to the days of whips and chains."

At that Jacobus laughed in dark amusement. "Oh no, dear boy! How archaic. I'll simply even things up. You killed my wife in front of me. I'll return the favor."

For a single instant, the centuries-old Merlinian saw red. Forgetting about Dave, about his own ringlessness even, he took a threatening step forward, hand clenched into a fist, and snarled viciously in a tone he hadn't used in a very long time, "Lay one hand on her head, Jacobus, and I'll kill you myself."

With dark glee in his eyes, Jacobus casually raised a hand and murmured, "Stay, boy." His lips curled into a wicked smile as the Merlinian froze, trapped by the Oath. A single moment of having dropped his guard was all it had taken for the Morganian to take hold of him. The Brit stepped forward, icy eyes meeting with storm-blue. "You're lucky, old man, that I caught you. Apparently your concern for your boy only lasts as long as your wife is safe." He chuckled at the immediate alarm that registered in Balthazar's eyes for a fraction of a second. "I'll be sure to remember that detail."

Balthazar took a deep breath, trying to force his rage down. Even more furious with himself for having fallen so easily into his old master's trap. He shut his eyes. _Step One: Clear your mind..._ He reminded himself. An important rule that had more uses than just performing sorcery. He took another deep breath and then another. _Stay in control... If he gets to you, then he wins. Stay. In. Control._ One more deep breath and he balled his hands into fists, forcing his arms up in a motion reminiscent of raising the Circle. His eyes snapped open and he felt the power of the Oath drop off of him again, though with more difficulty this time than ever. Remembering Dave, he refrained from making any sudden movements toward Jacobus, but he flexed his hands a few times to make it clear to the man that he was no longer held under his power.

His adversary didn't seem at all upset by Balthazar's ability to throw him off again. "My, my," he murmured. "Still have that stubborn streak. That'll have to be the first thing I break you of." He raised his hand again, managing to still the Merlinian. His control was no longer enough to completely hold him. But it was enough to keep him at bay. "I'm sure once they're dead, I'll have a much easier time keeping you in line, won't I?"

"You will touch them over my dead body," he bit out fiercely.

Jacobus shook his head, sighing. "It's a shame Merlin let you grow so old before he froze your age, Balthazar. Your memory appears to be failing you. We just went over this. Your death serves no purpose. How can I properly pay you back if you're dead? And how can I hurt your boy if you die? Much better for him to watch you break." His eyes narrowed, clearly enjoying himself. "I'll tear you to pieces old man, and not just your body. Your mind will be in such tatters that you might as well be dead." He flashed a grin, obviously enjoying the mental image. "Maybe I won't kill the boy. I'll just leave your battered, empty shell on his doorstep. Let your son take care of what's left of you."

A wave of panic struck Balthazar then, not for himself, but for Dave. "He's not my son, Jacobus," he replied a touch too quickly. "He's only my—"

"Close enough. You'd die for him. I can see it in your eyes. He'd probably do the same for you." Jacobus paused thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll let him."

"Leave him alone." Balthazar's fists clenched. "Take me if you want, just leave them both alone."

"I thought you'd die first," the Morganian sneered.

"What do you _want_?" A dark anger that Balthazar hadn't felt in years was bubbling so close to the surface that it was clearly visible through his eyes. He'd never liked violence, especially not since he'd joined Merlin, but now... for this moment... in his mind's eye, he could clearly see himself killing his old master. And he felt no guilt for the thought. "You obviously don't just want me back," he snarled. "Stop with the damn games and answer me. You want Dave to suffer. _Why_?"

Jacobus' eyes finally darkened, a harshness twisting his handsome features enough to make the state of his mind visible on his face. "I owe you," he hissed. "You and your boy, Balthazar. I almost got Gwen back. I was so _close_... and then your apprentice destroyed Morgana and ended the Rising. And he _will _pay dearly for that. But first... I know what he is. If anyone can recreate the Rising, it will be him."

"He won't do it," Balthazar spat out, struggling to keep his composure.

The terrible darkness faded from Jacobus' visage, but his eyes still blazed. "Are you sure about that, old man? Your boy would do anything for you, wouldn't he?" His voice was low and smooth once more.

"Not that."

Jacobus stepped forward until he was face-to-face with his old apprentice. "You're still a terrible liar, Balthazar."

"I won't let him."

The dark-haired sorcerer laughed and in a soft, deadly voice, purred, "I almost have you, Balthazar. You're having a harder and harder time fighting me, aren't you? Next time... maybe the time after... you'll be mine again. I'll be able to make you do whatever I want. And when that time comes, he'll be mine, too... won't he, old man?"

Balthazar was silent.

"Now, this is your last chance. Give up and hand over the boy. He can perform the Rising and, if he's a good little thing and doesn't cause me too much trouble, I'll let him to go home and allow you take the punishment I have planned for him instead. Otherwise, old boy, he will learn what pain is, and not even you will be able to save him."

"I won't hand him over to you."

Jacobus smiled. "I didn't think you would. And you should know that the offer to save your boy wasn't a kindness. I just want you to remember when I break him that you could have prevented it. Anything I do now will be on your head." He took a step back as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "This is the last time we talk. The next time you see me, it _will_ be war." He tipped his hat. "Don't bother following me, old man. Take care of your child while you can. Have a good night." With those words, the Morganian turned and walked away into the lengthening early evening shadows. It wasn't until Jacobus had completely disappeared from Balthazar's view that the man's hold on him finally dropped completely and Balthazar was able to move properly again.

* * *

Balthazar made it back to the apartment building in record time, certain that he was being watched the entire way. He only hoped that Dave at least had the common sense to return directly to the apartment when it had become evident that Balthazar was going home.

He dug his key out and unlocked the building, yanking the door open and storming to the stairs, not having the patience to wait for the elevator. And not wanting to risk any neighbors trying to start a conversation with him. He took a deep, calming breath when he finally reached his floor. It did him no good. But if he didn't manage to cool off a little before he faced Dave, there was a high likelihood that he'd do something he'd regret. He tried to remind himself that the boy had followed him out of concern, but that really just pissed him off more. Dave had his entire life to live. Balthazar had already outlived his own. What right did that boy have to squander his just to save an old man he'd known for what... all of five months?"

"Idiot..." he growled under his breath, realizing that calming down wasn't an option, and finally walking up to his door instead. As long as Dave was smart enough to keep his mouth shut, Balthazar probably wouldn't kill him, an act which would defeat the entire point of having dealt with Jacobus for so long in the first place.

He whipped the door open, and stepped inside, somehow at the last second, managing to force his face into blank mask before entering. It took all he had to maintain it. Especially since the first thing he saw upon entering was Dave was sitting in the living room, flipping through his Incantus. Balthazar glanced down at his apprentice's feet. The boy must have just barely beat him here. He hadn't had time to even kick off his shoes.

He clicked the door shut behind him just as Veronica stepped out of the kitchen. "That was quick," she commented, smiling at him.

He nodded vaguely in return, and her own smile wavered.

Dave merely looked up from the book, his poorly disguised worry written all over his face. He just studied his master for a moment before commenting quietly. "So, where's the tea?"

Balthazar gritted his teeth, snapping back abruptly, "Why are your shoes on?"

His anger must have finally flashed onto his face, because Dave didn't answer, instead setting the Incantus down on the coffee table.

"It seemed more prudent," Balthazar growled out, kicking his own shoes off roughly and stepping out of the entranceway toward his apprentice, "to bring you back here rather than drag you to the store with me, where you could find new and exciting ways to get yourself killed."

Dave visibly paled. Wincing, he replied in a guilty voice, "So, I take it you saw me."

"Actually, no," his master responded, stepping up to the armchair, and resting his hands on its back so he could lean heavily against it. It seemed best to keep at least one piece of furniture between himself and his apprentice. "In fact, I had enough on my mind that I probably would never have noticed you at all if Jacobus hadn't seen you and made me aware of your presence."

Balthazar could hear Veronica's sharp gasp, but he didn't turn to look at her, his angry eyes fixed on his apprentice's ashen face. The old sorcerer's hands tightened on the chair. "I told you to stay here."

Dave's eyes widened. "I know, but you're unarmed, and he'd already shown up twice today. I just thought—"

"No, Dave. That's the problem. You _didn't_ think. You acted on impulse, which is what gets a sorcerer killed."

"I'm sorry but—"

Balthazar's deadly glare silenced the boy. "Shut up, Dave. Right now I'm far more of a threat to you than Jacobus. And each time you talk, I start thinking up new ways to make you regret opening your mouth."

"But—"

"Do not speak." Balthazar's eyes flashed and Dave fell silent. "There are reasons," he continued in a cold, clipped voice, "that the Oath exists, Dave. I have sworn to you not to use that power over you," his voice began to raise, "but dammit, if you're going to keep endangering your own life by ignoring me when I give you an order, then maybe I should start."

At those words, Dave leapt to his feet, his own eyes finally flashing in anger. "You promised, Balthazar. What happened to not trusting anyone with that kind of power?"

"And what happened to your promise to me?" the old man retorted.

Dave just stared at him.

"You swore to me," Balthazar replied, his voice so low and dark that it actually frightened Dave into sitting back in his seat. "You swore that you would not disobey me again. That when I gave you a verbal command, you would listen. I give you orders because your safety is my responsibility. If you do not start listening, then maybe we should just break Oath and be done with it."

"_Balthazar._" Veronica cut in, her voice ringing with alarm.

He didn't answer her, his anger and worry momentarily blocking out all reason.

Dave's hands balled into fists as his own eyes flashed with irritation once more. "Well, obviously whatever _that_ means, it's unpleasant," he snapped. "Should I assume it's worse than actually _using_ the Oath on me?"

Veronica approached her husband, resting a calming hand on his shoulder. "Balthazar, you're angry. You've been under a lot of stress. Just go into the other room before someone says something they're going to regret."

"I haven't regretted anything I've said yet."

Dave ignored the entire exchange, instead returning to the previous point they'd been discussing. "So, if I don't listen, you use your power against me. And if I _do _listen, then I get to just sit watch Jacobus tear you apart every time he speaks to you. I have no idea what the hell you two were talking about, but I managed to get a pretty good look at your face a few times there. You think I _liked _seeing what his words were doing to you? Yet you expect me to just sit around and let you face him over and over? What if he takes you again? What do you think that's going to do to me and Veronica?"

"Worry about yourself, Dave."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen. Anyway, it's my choice. You're no Morganian. You're not going to break your promise. I know you."

"Not so well as you think, Dave. I _was _Morganian. And some old habits die hard. You've said it yourself... I lie to you all the time."

"That's different," Dave snapped. "You wouldn't betray me. You haven't been one of them for centuries. God, Balthazar, you're more Merlinian than _I_ am and I'm Merlin's freaking _heir_." He shook his head. "Come on, you're my friend. Do you really expect me to just let you face that guy alone? I know you want to protect us, but whether or not you like it, right now you can't. And I'm not going to let you die trying."

Balthazar straightened at those words, and shot the boy a glare that silenced him. "You almost did."

Dave's next words died in his throat and instead he just stared at his master in silence a moment, struggling to find some sort of response. "I.. I what?"

His master's voice cooled off as he quietly repeated himself. "You almost did get me killed. You could have gotten both of us killed. He threatened to kill me to see what you would do. _That's_ what your little hero move brought on. Better yet, your presence gave him the opportunity he needed to keep me with him long enough for him to take control of me. Because if I made one wrong move, he threatened to kill you. You're just lucky that Jacobus was more interested in taunting me than harming you. "

"He threatened to kill you?" Dave's voice had shrunken into him as he sagged back into the sofa. "_And _he managed to take over you again?"

"If I hadn't thrown him off, he'd have taken more than my ability to walk away. He has plans, Dave. He got a great deal of pleasure from telling me all about them."

"He's trying to get you back, isn't he?" Dave's brow was furrowed in concern, his anger forgotten, or at very least deeply buried. "That's what this is all about."

Balthazar studied his apprentice for a long moment. And then, finally walking around the chair and dropping into its seat, he responded quietly, his voice suddenly dead tired now that most of the anger seemed to have rushed out of him, "No, Dave. He doesn't just want me. He wants you, too."

* * *

_Author's Note: Surprise! I actually managed to update quickly this time (does it worry anyone but me that I have an easier time writing chapters that contain Jacobus...? *sweatdrops*) Anyway, I thought I'd get this posted for you since you had a bit of a wait for the last one. I hope you enjoy._

_Thanks to kaytori and lolo popoki for their awesome beta work! And thanks to my readers for reading and reviewing._

_And a final note... kenobigirlliz... am I really that predictable? I'm starting to worry that my fic has no surprise value at all (though in response to your comment about expecting the Morganian twist... I got the idea for the Morganian background after reading the 2008 script, which did actually give him a Morganian past, though Balthazar was only about 40 years old in the script, not 1500... and certainly not Merlin's apprentice. I wanted a way to keep Balthazar as Merlin's apprentice, but still make him originally Morganian... this is what came of it. All I really took from the script was the idea of Balthazar having been Morganian though. The rest of this stuff is entirely mine... in case you're wondering... I'll stop rambling now...) Anyway, I'll attempt to throw at least some surprises your way! Though as long as you still like the story, I can't complain._

_Thanks again to everyone. Happy reading!_

_Dewa mata!_

_Sirius  
_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

Dave stared at his master for a moment in stunned silence. "Wait," he sputtered. "He wants _me_? What does he want _me_for?"

Balthazar sat back in his armchair, and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. "What wouldn't he want you for, Dave?" His eyes flitted up to meet his apprentice's. "You're the Prime Merlinian."

"So? I thought being the Prime Merlinian means that everyone wants to kill me. Horvath sure seemed to like that plan."

"Jacobus thinks outside the box. It's one thing that makes him so dangerous. He's unpredictable. Horvath would rather kill you to rid himself of a pest. Jacobus would rather break you to use your power. Why just go for a match when you can have a torch?"

The youth's expression was blank. "You lost me."

"You're more powerful than I am, Dave."

"Not yet, I'm not." The youth snorted, then sobered up remembering their conversation in the lab a few days back. "I'm just Michelangelo in training, remember?"

Balthazar smiled faintly at that.

Dave began tapping his fingers on the arm of the sofa, nervously. "Anyway, what good is having a torch if you can't light it...?" He trailed off there, suddenly understanding. "He wants to take you to train me, doesn't he? Two for the price of one."

Veronica moved quietly into the room, silently sitting on the sofa next to her husband, taking his hand in hers. He squeezed it gently.

"He doesn't need me to train you, Dave. He can do that himself."

"Then why _does_he need you?"

"To finish what he started."

Dave's eyes narrowed, and he replied through gritted teeth, "I don't buy it, Balthazar. There's more to it."

The older man's jaw clenched. "He and I have a history, Dave. I defied him. I escaped." He paused, adding quietly, "I killed his wife." His grip on Veronica's hand tightened a touch. "Breaking me is plenty."

"He won't break you, Balthazar. He didn't before, and you're stronger now. You said it yourself."

"Yes. I am. And so is he," was Balthazar's simple response. Before Dave could respond to that, the older man turned to his wife. "Veronica, I need you to get Dave out of here for awhile. Bring him somewhere safe."

Dave glared at his master. "We aren't just leaving you, Balthazar. Especially not now. We need to stick together. Team Magical Stuff... Remember?"

Again, Balthazar didn't answer him, all of his attention focused on Veronica. Trying to will her with his eyes to agree with him. When her expression wasn't the promising one he'd hoped for, he added, "Not forever. Not even for very long. Just give me some time to work things out with Jacobus."

"Work things out?" Dave bit out incredulously, before Veronica could get a word in. "This isn't just some misunderstanding, Balthazar. This guy wants you, too. If not to train me, then to be his lackey, or hurt you more or some other secret thing that you _shockingly_won't tell me about," he glared, "but you obviously know."

"I'll be fine, Dave," Balthazar replied, his voice neutral, ignoring Dave's final comment. "I've dealt with Jacobus before."

"And we all know how well _that_went."

Veronica flinched at those words, but Balthazar didn't so much as blink. "Yes," he responded smoothly. "He tried to break me. The operative word being _tried_. And I'm sure he'll try again, thus the reason _you_won't be here." He turned his attention back to his wife. "Veronica...?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. She wasn't going to agree to it—Dave could read that much clearly in her eyes—but she knew how her husband operated. And just saying no would only make him find creative ways to get what he wanted. "Where would I take him? I barely know Manhattan, let alone anywhere else."

"It doesn't matter where." He stood, beginning to pace. "Right now anywhere is safer. Just get him far enough away that he can't be tracked." His voice dropped as he added, "Even by me... _Especially_by me."

With those words, Dave almost choked. "_You_? You're not a threat."

His master leveled a serious look at his apprentice. "I could become one, Dave, if he gets to me."

"What?"

Balthazar stopped and studied his apprentice. "You want to know what his 'secret plans' are that I'm excluding you from? He wants to use me to get to you."

"He's going to take you hostage? And he actually _told_you that? I thought you said the guy's smart."

Balthazar snorted at that. "Jacobus is efficient. If he used me as a hostage, it's implied that he'd make a trade, which means an unnecessary loss." Balthazar smirked, his eyes dark. "He plans to use the oath on me. And when I'm his, he'll make me use it on you."

Dave just stared at him. "He can do that?"

Balthazar nodded. "To some degree, yes. It's almost like a transfer of energy. The command grows weaker the further it gets from its source. So, it rarely works. Each of the sorcerers involved would have to be very powerful to pull it off."

Dave winced. "Ah. So basically it would be easy in this case."

"Very easy. _If_he gets to me."

"Which he won't," Dave replied firmly.

A ghost of Balthazar's old smile graced his lips and Dave's mind was finally put somewhat at ease, though a darkness remained in the old sorcerer's eyes. "Of course he won't. But as far as Jacobus is concerned, I don't take chances. Likely or not, we need to respond to this as though he already has me. Worst case scenario."

"Worst case is that he kills you, Balthazar."

"No, Dave. It's not."

Dave barely graced that with a response. "Fine. Whatever you say. Either way, we need a plan." He studied his master a moment before clarifying, "One that doesn't involve splitting up."

"Such as?"

"We get your ring. Then we trap Jacobus and take him down."

The older man raised an eyebrow at that. "You call that a plan?"

"It's better than the 'hide Dave' plan," the youth retorted in frustration.

"I agree with Dave," Veronica added, her eyes flashing. "I know what you're doing, Balthazar. And it isn't going to work with me."

"Veronica..."

"As soon as I get Dave away, you intend to draw Jacobus where I can't track you. I'm not allowing for that."

He began pacing again. "I won't."

"Balthazar..."

"You've said it yourself. I'm a terrible liar."

"Which is how I know what you're planning."

He stopped and spun on her, responding sharply, "I just want to protect you two."

"From Jacobus? We have to face him eventually."

"And we're going to face him together," Dave chimed in.

"Not from Jacobus," Balthazar finally snapped in frustration. "From me."

"Enough of this," Veronica replied, standing, her voice tired, but stern. "No one is protecting anyone right now." She shot a sharp glare at both of the men before her. "All we're going to do now is eat dinner. After that we can discuss viable options, but not until then."

Balthazar opened his mouth to protest, but her sharp glare silenced him. "_Not_," she repeated, stressing the word, "until after dinner." When she was certain that both men weren't going to put up a fight, she pointed into the kitchen. "Dave, could you please put some glasses out on the table? And there's some iced tea in the refrigerator. Would you mind cutting a lemon for it and putting that out as well?"

Dave hesitated a moment, torn between trying one more time to reason with his master and shutting up and following her directions. Finally, he gave up and stood, nodding stiffly and walking past her, clearly unhappy with stopping the conversation before he could be certain Balthazar was going to listen to reason.

As soon as the youth was in the other room, Veronica approached her husband. After quietly studying him for a moment, she slipped her arms around his waist, and pulled him close, resting her head on his shoulder. Quietly, she whispered into his ear, "Hiding Dave isn't a viable option, Balthazar."

He sighed, his response just as soft. "I know. But we're running out of choices, and _I'm_ running out of time." He could feel her body tense at that, and he continued. "He wants both of us, Veronica. He doesn't care how he gets me, dead or alive, but he needs Dave."

"_Needs _him?"

But Balthazar ignored the question. "I don't know how to keep him safe. If either of us gets taken..."

"You think Jacobus going to use you against him, don't you?"

"I think he'll try."

She was silent for a long moment after that. "And if he does? What will you do?"

The old sorcerer wasn't quite sure how to answer that, so he responded vaguely, "He'll try. That doesn't mean he'll succeed."

"Balthazar."

"If he manages to get me, he'll use me to get to Dave. Even if I fight the oath and refuse to call him... I can only hold out for so long before I'll slip. And if Jacobus gets tired of me before then, he'll do what he can to make Dave want to save me."

"_Make_ him?" Even in the darkness of the moment, that line seemed to strike her as amusing. "You think he'd have to _make_ Dave want to save you?"

"He's a good boy. A good apprentice," Balthazar clarified, apparently not catching his wife's implications. "He'll consider it his responsibility to get me back. Jacobus is going to count on that. I don't want him to have that chance. You need to take Dave away."

"And if I don't?"

Balthazar's expression went blank. In a flat voice, he responded, "If you don't, and Jacobus takes me, he will do whatever is necessary to get Dave's attention. Quickly. And I doubt he'll bother with threats this time. Screams work just as well for him. Or small gifts."

_"Balthazar," _she hissed, her voice sharp, pain ringing out through her words.

The man's voice rose a touch. "And how long after that do you think it will be before Dave comes looking for me? How long do you think you could hold him back alone? I know him better than you do and _I_ can't even manage that half the time." He pulled back to brush some dark hair from her eyes. His pale ones locking with her brown. "I'm not going to risk that, Veronica. If Jacobus gets Dave, he'll do with him as he wants and then tear him apart."

"Balthazar—"

"I know how he works, Veronica. Far better than you do. Jacobus will use him and then destroy him in front of me." A muscle in his jaw tightened. "And I'm sure he'll take his time about it." His eyes met hers searchingly. "Do you understand?"

"Of course I do. But it doesn't have to be that way." She choked the words out, struggling to block out the image that her husband had brought to mind. "The way you talk, Jacobus already has you. Our plan is to keep both of you safe."

Balthazar didn't say anything, just studying her. Taking her in.

"That _is_ our plan, isn't it?"

But rather than answer, he just leaned forward and kissed her. A long, desperate kiss, very like the one he'd given her months ago in Battery Park, when he'd drawn Morgana from her soul into his own. When he'd been ready to die to save her.

His kiss answered her question far better than any words.

"Are you guys coming? The tea's ready," Dave's voice cut in before she could formulate a response, her mind dizzy with the kiss and the pain and the panic. And the realization that Balthazar had his own plans, and probably had all along.

Dave finally poked his head around the doorway to the kitchen. "Seriously guys, it's..." He trailed off, then quickly covered his eyes with his hands. "Whoa... God, do you guys _have_ to make out right here where I can see you? Like every single time?"

Balthazar pulled back from her, gently squeezing her as he responded mildly, "It's our apartment, Dave."

"What happened to all that chastity stuff?"

The old man raised an eyebrow. "We're married. Did you think all we do is walk around and hold hands? If you can't handle kissing, then you probably shouldn't be spending nights here..."

Dave's hands moved from his eyes to cover his ears. "And that's officially more than I needed to hear. Thank you Balthazar for that mental image before dinner."

Balthazar chuckled, gently kissing Veronica once more. She glanced up at his face, and wasn't surprised to see a darkness in his eyes that his humor couldn't quite mask. Whatever would happen would come into play soon. Balthazar was already preparing himself. She and Dave were to be kept out of it.

She couldn't even work up a good anger. This was Balthazar. It's how he operated. How he always had. This stupid, self-sacrificing nature was one of the things she loved—and hated—about him. He would protect them to his death.

If they didn't act quickly, that time would be soon.

"Let's eat," he murmured, drawing her close. His own eyes catching hers, questioning her. What was she going to do? Stand back and let him do what needed to be done? Or would she do something stupid?

If he didn't know that answer by now, then he was a fool.

"Yes," she responded, tearing her eyes from his. "Let's eat. We have plans to make after dinner, don't we?"

With those words, she squeezed his hand and gently led him into the kitchen.

* * *

Dave sighed, laying back in his bed, tense. They'd eaten dinner in an awkward silence. Even though Dave had walked in on them kissing, again, Veronica and Balthazar had, throughout the entire meal, kept an odd distance between them. Dave couldn't help but feel like he was, as usual, being left out of something important.

He shivered, pulling his blankets up around him. Knowing that even though the spring air slipping through his window _was_ a touch cold, _that_ wasn't the reason for his sudden chill. Something about their kiss followed by such strange coolness gave Dave the uncomfortable impression that it hadn't just been a married couple in love. It was the sort of kiss he'd imagine he'd give Becky if he were walking toward death. The kind of you'd give to say goodbye, just in case you never got another chance.

And as much as Dave hated to admit it, he'd rather have walked in on one of the couple's usual nauseatingly cute, sappy kisses. Sure, they made him uncomfortable... but they were better than this...

He flopped over onto his side. _It'll be fine. You're just imagining things. They just kissed, and then things were awkward because you made a big, freaking deal out of it. _

Except every other time, Balthazar had simply used Dave's embarrassment as fuel for his own personal entertainment.

Even after dinner, during their fruitless planning that had accomplished nothing more than convincing Balthazar that no one was hiding away, Balthazar had spent most of the time with a detached look to him. Dave stared out his window, thoughtfully. In fact, Balthazar had agreed awfully quickly. Very unlike him.

He sighed heavily, flopping back onto his back as he'd been doing for the past couple of hours now. Sleep wouldn't come. Probably because he knew what else was coming.

_Think of something else, Dave. You need rest. You can't help Balthazar if you're too tired to function. It won't be so bad if you're sleeping._

But it was too late. The sound cut through the apartment, sending chills down the youth's spine. The same desperate quality to the scream as last time. The terrifying feeling clawing at the pit of Dave's stomach that maybe this time it was real. Maybe he should check on them... just in case.

He squished his eyes shut. No. He'd promised. That was his deal with Veronica. She wouldn't soundproof the rooms if he'd stay in his. Because Balthazar didn't need extra stress right now.

She'd wanted to at very least soundproof their own room... badly. Heck, part of _him_ had really wanted her to do it as well. But what if Jacobus got to them somehow? If he couldn't hear what was happening around him, the couple could be attacked and Dave would never know—and vice versa. That was the card he'd been forced to play to convince Veronica to just leave it for now.

Still... Listening to his master's agony and knowing he couldn't do anything to help...

Another sharp cry, longer and louder this time. The hairs on the back of Dave's neck rose at that. _Stop, please, _he prayed. _Just wake him up, Veronica. Make him some tea. _He took a deep breath. _Make him better. I can't handle him being like this. Dream or not... he's in pain, even if it _is_ only in his mind..._

He grabbed his pillow and covered his head with it, trying to drown out the hopelessness in the old man's voice.

_We'll get him, Balthazar. I swear it. We'll make him pay. Just hang on, buddy._

His knuckles went white as his hold tightened on the pillow at the sound of one last scream, abruptly cut off.

_Just hang on._

* * *

_Author's Note: Look! I'm not dead! And the story isn't abandoned! Sorry for disappearing for so long. No valid excuse. i was in Panama for a couple weeks with some of my students, and between trying to set up college classes for next year, figuring out what's going on with my teaching job (which may be getting messed with a bit) and working my other job, I've had little time for a life. But I have been plucking away at the chapter. You can ask kaytori and lolo popoki (who get a big thanks for their beta work again)._

_Anyway, don't worry about me abandoning this fic. I (usually:P) enjoy writing it to give it up._

_Thanks for reading. Please review!_

_Sirius:)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

By the time Dave woke up the following morning, the sun was already shining brightly through the partially open shades. He glanced at his clock, and turned away, still groggy from his nearly sleepless night. Then the time registered and he did a double take.

_Eleven o'clock?_

A moment of panic as he throw off his covers and dove for his tote, digging out clothes at random. He was late for class. Why hadn't Bennet woken him up? Why hadn't he set his alarm?

He suddenly realized that he was digging through a tote and not his dresser. He straightened, looking around for the first time. And why was he in Balthazar's apartment?

He stopped his frenzied hunt for a clean shirt as his exhausted mind finally caught up with the rest of him.

He wasn't going to class today, per Balthazar's orders. Because a madman was after them. That's why he was here. And why he was so tired. Because that same psychopath had brought back Balthazar's nightmares and given Dave a few of his own.

He sat heavily on the bed, remembering the previous night. The screaming that had only lasted a couple of minutes, but had haunted Dave for hours later, even after Veronica had poked in to confirm that they were fine. And to remind Dave not to mention anything in the morning. Balthazar was under the impression that Veronica had soundproofed the room as she'd originally intended. There was no reason for him to know that Dave could still hear. No reason to put more strain on the man and his pride.

Dave rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. _Need to get up or he'll wonder. And if he asks, I'm screwed. He's too smart for his own good._

He stood and dug through his bag at a more normal pace this time. _Need to get dressed. And I need to shave so I don't start looking like Balthazar's twin._ He smiled faintly that, picturing himself with long hair, a leather trench coat, and stiff, formal clothes. It really wasn't a pretty mental image.

He dressed and showered quickly, hurriedly shaved, and was out of his room in record time.

Balthazar was sitting on the sofa reading his paper. At Dave's entrance, he glanced up over the rim of his reading glasses and commented. "Look who decided to grace me with his presence. I was considering going in and dumping cold water on you if you weren't up by noon."

Dave rolled his eyes. "Knocking on the door would have sufficed." He walked up to the armchair and dropped heavily into it.

"Not as much fun." Balthazar folded the paper and set it on the coffee table in front of him. He scrutinized his apprentice. "What's wrong?" he asked abruptly.

Dave didn't answer, instead asking. "Where's Veronica?"

"Downstairs getting the mail. Don't change the subject."

Dave sighed. "Couldn't sleep. Nightmares," he muttered. It was half true. Technically not lying.

That technicality must have been enough to keep it from showing on his face—or maybe Balthazar himself was just too tired to register the half-truth. Because he just leaned back and said nothing.

"How about you?" Dave prompted. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Balthazar was saved from having to answer that by the sound of the front door opening and Veronica entering. She set her mail key on the small table in the entrance and glanced up to see Dave and Balthazar both looking at her. "Good morning," she said to Dave, smiling. "Did you sleep well?"

He glanced away. "Yeah. Some nightmares, but I slept."

She nodded, slipping her shoes off. "Well, at least you got some rest." She walked into the living room and dropped a couple envelopes onto her husband's lap, kissing him gently on the cheek as she did so. "Bills."

He smiled a little and tossed them on the coffee table. "I'll worry about them later. Right now they aren't really a priority." He locked eyes with Dave. "Jacobus isn't going to wait to attack," he said, getting straight to the point. "If he's issuing threats, then that means he already has his plans set. It's only a matter of time." He stood. "Which is why we're going to get some training in. I don't want you facing him, but still... I don't take chances when Jacobus is involved. I want you to be ready for anything. Get your coat. Veronica's wards are set, so the lab is secure." He leveled a serious look at his apprentice. "Just keep the door shut this time."

Dave gaped at him. "Wait a minute..." He closed his eyes and shook his head as though this would suddenly make the abrupt change in topic make sense. "We're _training_? Balthazar, you don't have a ring. How can we train in sorcery without magic?"

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "_I_ don't need magic for _you_to train."

"What? Blasting me into the wall isn't a requirement of training?"

Balthazar managed a small smile. "No. It's just fun."

Dave stood and approached his master. "Look, Balthazar. I'm all for preparing to deal with this guy, but not like this. You can't deflect magic. What if I make a mistake? What if I hurt you?" He couldn't hide the worry in his voice, try though he might.

Balthazar snorted at that. "You won't." He didn't bother waiting for Dave to finish, instead walking past him to grab his coat from the nearby chair it was draped over . "Come on. And grab your lit book. You're doing your homework while we're there."

"While I'm training? How's that going to work?"

"Don't argue, just move." He pointed at Dave's bedroom. "Textbook. Now."

The boy sighed, knowing it was futile to try to argue with Balthazar. And honestly, training wasn't a bad idea. After dealing with that sociopath, Dave wanted to at least get a better handle on attacking and defending at the same time. Still... that didn't mean the plan wasn't dangerous. Accidents happened.

He glanced back at Balthazar, but the old sorcerer wasn't even looking at him anymore, instead folding his reading glasses and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

Dave gave up and threw his hands up, grumbling, "_Fine_. Have it your way."

As soon as he'd stomped off to his room, the centuries old sorcerer approached his wife, gently taking her hand. "What? No arguments?" he asked quietly.

"I'd rather you stay here, but you're right. You both need to be prepared. And I want to tighten up these wards some more. There are some weak spots..."

"Weak spots?"

She nodded grimly. "I think he tried to get in last night. Dave and my wards held, but I can feel a few areas that aren't as strong as before. The balcony for instance. And a few other spots."

"Can you set any to alert you to his presence?"

She shook her head. "It's been too long since I've faced him. I'd need to be in his presence again to get a feel for him."

"No." His voice was flat. Almost dead if one didn't know better. But Veronica did, and she could clearly hear the protective worry as well.

She smiled faintly. "I didn't think you'd like that," she replied. "So, the only option I'm left with is tightening up what we already have." She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. Pulling back, she added, "Just be careful."

He nodded. "When aren't I careful?"

Her steady gaze didn't waver. "Don't make me answer that."

He smiled, responding quietly, "I'll try. That's the best I can promise."

"Try hard."

Gently, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek, he slipped his arms around her her and pulled her in for one more kiss, whispering into her ear, "I will."

* * *

The drive to the lab was tense. Obviously Balthazar was expecting something bad to happen at any moment, which in turn had Dave jumping at shadows. And of course, asking Balthazar what exactly he was anticipating had brought only the most obvious answer: "Jacobus."

Dave attempted to stifle his irritation. "I figured that much out. What are you expecting him to do?"

"I'm not sure exactly," the older man admitted slowly, to Dave's surprise. "With Jacobus, it could be anything. If he attacks us out here, it will be subtle. He won't want to draw undue attention to himself."

Dave nodded thoughtfully. "So he's low profile like us..." He paused, shooting a quick glance behind him to confirm that they still weren't being followed. Then an odd thought struck him and he turned his attention back to Balthazar. "Why? Horvath wasn't."

"Horvath likes to show off. Jacobus doesn't waste opportunities on flamboyance."

"That's it?" Dave asked, something nagging at his mind.

"Pretty much."

Dave narrowed his eyes, remembering something Balthazar had said during their talk with Jacobus on campus. "Not because he doesn't want 'every Morganian for miles around' to know? What's up with that?"

"Every Morganian for miles around would love to kill you on sight, Dave. He has other plans."

"Such as...?"

But shockingly Balthazar didn't answer, apparently done with the conversation. Dave sighed. _Why am I even surprised...?_

The rest of the drive was conducted in thoughtful silence. When they reached the lab, Dave set a weak ward on the Phantom, even with Balthazar's reasonable argument that the car wasn't worth the risk of standing exposed in a scantily populated area.

Dave made it quick. The wards were probably too shoddy and hastily made to be of any use, but it made him feel better.

"Done?" Balthazar grumbled when Dave stepped back. "Think we can go to the lab so we can keep from being attacked while my car remains unscathed?" His words were sarcastic, but the look in Balthazar's eye told Dave that he was grateful. He'd had that car a long time. It was the only frivolous thing he'd ever owned as far as Dave could tell. Stupid though it may have seemed, the car obviously mattered to him.

And destroying it was the type of petty attack against Balthazar that Dave could imagine Jacobus making if he wasn't able to touch the man for a day or two. Certainly not something that would actually _hurt_ Balthazar... but a blow nonetheless.

They quickly approached the lab entrance. To Dave's surprise, he had no trouble opening the door. As he stepped in, he glanced back at his master. "I thought you were going to make it so I couldn't bypass the wards without help."

"It's your lab," Balthazar responded simply.

"I endangered us."

Balthazar motioned for Dave to turn on the light as he shut the door. "You didn't know better. Now you do. No excuses next time." Obviously the topic was closed.

Dave nodded, grateful, and flicked the switch, throwing the lab into shadowy illumination. He glanced up at the smashed lights leftover from Jacobus's first attack. "I really need to fix those," he commented as he clattered down the stairs.

Balthazar made his way down behind him. "Later. We can still see. Let's get some training done first. We have priorities." He passed Dave and entered the Circle, pulling off his long, leather coat and tossing it to the side.

Dave sighed. "Right." He walked over to a crate to set his things down. "What are we starting with? More plasma bolts? Because it would really help if I knew how to shoot out a bolt and hold up a shield at the same time."

Balthazar raised an eyebrow. "_You_ are starting with your homework."

The youth's head snapped up. "What? You're not serious! With that maniac—"

"Shut it," his master snapped. "Go into the back room, get it done, come back out. _Then_ you train."

"I could have done this back at the apartment," Dave replied, dangerously close to whining. "Why here?"

"Because _I_ need to train and I'd prefer to have you where I can see you rather than sneaking around after me so Jacobus can just pick you off."

Dave glared at him, but didn't take the bait. "What are you going to train in without your ring, Balthazar?"

But apparently the man didn't intend to answer, because he simply turned his back on the boy and snapped in a no-nonsense voice, "Go."

Grumbling, Dave scooped his things back up and stomped into the back room, sorely tempted to slam the door behind him in a childish fit of aggravation. Instead, he managed to control his annoyance and flipped on the light, throwing his book onto the old wooden desk and opening it, flipping pages. "You'd think he was my dad," he muttered to himself as he finally found the set of stories he was looking for: The works of Edgar Allen Poe, "The Pit and the Pendulum" being one of the required stories in the set.

"Exactly the kind of story that I don't want to be reading right now..." he grumbled as he settled in for a miserable time.

* * *

After almost an hour of reading about the life and times of a man he didn't care about, followed by a handful of stories he didn't understand, Dave stepped out of the room in the back of the lab_. _"Balthazar, you want to maybe explain to me what the point of this story was? I figure you of all people might get this whole 'terrorize the guy with creepy hidden stuff' concept better than I do..." He trailed off as his gaze turned to the circle.

The old man appeared to be doing some sort of martial arts. He was so focused that he didn't seem to have noticed his apprentice's appearance in the door.

Dave just stared. He'd never really seen Balthazar do any actual fighting without magic beyond some basic blocking. It had never even occurred to him that the Merlinian could, though it made sense. Balthazar had once explained that a weakness of most Morganians was their reliance on the strength of their magic. And Balthazar wasn't the type to point out a weakness that he shared.

He must have been training hard for the past half hour or so, because not only had the coat come off, but so had the vest and the shirt. And still sweat glistened off of his back and shoulders and had soaked through his bandages from yesterday.

Dave suddenly felt awkward and intrusive. As though this weren't just Balthazar, but another man entirely. The youth was just turning to return to the room to try and work out the story by himself and give Balthazar some space, when he noticed something odd about Balthazar's back. There was an uneven quality that became clear as the surviving electric lights shined off the sweat on what should have been smooth muscle and skin. He narrowed his eyes, confused. Now that he was looking, Balthazar's arm didn't really look right either. It wasn't just the unpredictable lights. The man's skin had an uneven almost patchwork quality to it. A sick feeling settled into the pit of Dave's stomach realization slowly dawned on him.

The powerful motion finally ceased at that moment as Balthazar stopped, breathing hard, his back toward Dave. Running his hand back through his damp hair, he walked to the far edge of the circle, opposite the Pentagram, and scooped up his shirt and vest. "Did you need something?" he asked calmly, finally turning and making eye contact with his apprentice.

Dave started. "Wha-? I just... The story... I didn't know..." he sputtered, motioning helplessly to the room behind him.

Balthazar approached him and grabbed a water bottle from a crate beside Dave, taking a long drink. He made a face. "When you invest in a microwave, get a mini-fridge, too. Very few beverages are meant to be drunk lukewarm."

At Dave's lack of response, he prompted, "What's wrong with the story other than the fact that you don't like it?" His voice was deceptively mild. As though nothing were out of the ordinary.

But Dave couldn't form the words to answer, instead continuing to stare. The skin that wasn't bandaged was badly scarred. No. That wasn't the right word. Damaged wasn't even quite strong enough. Mangled was probably the most accurate description. The scars Dave had seen on Balthazar's forearm from Morgana were mere scratches compared to this. There was a gnarled, pitted look to most of his skin. His back and left shoulder looked like they'd been sliced to ribbons at some point in time. Repeatedly. His right side and upper chest looked almost as though it had been torn apart and then re-constructed. There were several deep indentations that seemed to be some sort of puncture wounds around his ribs and collarbone. Much of his upper left arm was a mottled reddish color and had an overly shiny quality, obviously scar tissue from severe burns. And atop that, more scars made a latticework of raised skin and deep, discolored ruts that further marred his body's surface. It was as though he had layers of scars on top of other layers. As though someone had nearly killed him, then let him heal only to bring him back to the brink. Dave expected that this destruction probably wasn't confined to his torso and arms either.

In fact, Balthazar's face and hands seemed to be the only part of him that hadn't been torn apart.

Although, now that he was really looking for the first time, he could see deep grooves along his wrists as well.

All at once Dave understood why Balthazar dressed the way he did. Always in long pants and old-fashioned dress shirts with high collars and long sleeves that he never rolled up, even in the summer. Why had it never even occurred to Dave to wonder?

_Because it's Balthazar. His clothing choices are probably the most normal thing about him._Still... for some reason he felt guilty for not having considered that there was another reason. Just like never having considered the fact that Balthazar would have other dangerous enemies. Or that he'd have nightmares in his past that he still relived. How much had Dave taken for granted about the man? Or just written off as "weird Balthazar stuff"?

Suddenly Balthazar snapped his fingers in front of Dave's face, breaking into the youth's thoughts. "Dave. Focus. What's the problem with your homework?"

The boy didn't answer.

"My face is up here, Dave."

The boy finally managed to tear his horrified eyes away from the remains of his master's arms, and blurted out, "Balthazar... what happened to you?"

The man took another long drink of water. "I have a habit of getting into tight spots."

"That's not an answer," his apprentice responded quietly, not in the mood for Balthazar's sarcasm. "I mean it. This is..." He trailed off, unable to actually voice his horror. He took a breath and tried again. "Who did this to you? Morgana?"

Balthazar just shrugged. "Some of it." He paused. "I'm over a thousand years old, Dave. And I'm not exactly the type to keep out of things that 'don't concern me'." He smiled faintly. "Scars accumulate."

"So this is from wars and stuff?"

The Merlinian paused, responding again, "Some of it."

"And the rest?"

Balthazar didn't answer.

"How many came from Jacobus, Balthazar?"

The old man snorted quietly. "He's not quite so... physical."

Dave gritted his teeth. "Then how many came from his wife?"

Balthazar glanced away, taking one more drink before capping the water. "It would probably be easier to answer how many didn't..."

_Three weeks..._

"Couldn't someone fix it?" Dave asked, desperately. "I mean, we can do healing can't we?"

"Not on ourselves... not well at least. And to do a good job, you need someone specifically trained in healing arts."

"Then a doctor...? A doctor could fix some of it." Dave swallowed hard, trying to force down the bile that was rising in his throat. "So it wouldn't be so bad."

The old man studied him for a moment. "It could be worse," he responded. "Anyway, if you see a doctor, then you have to explain. This isn't easy to explain."

"You were in wars, Balthazar," Dave protested, some small desperate part of his mind trying to figure out a way to make it all better. Because he couldn't stand the thought of seeing the remains of his master's body and just accepting that nothing could be done to erase some of the damage. "You could have told them what happened and just left out the fact that it was over a thousand years ago. Doctors see scars like that. Probably not this bad usually, but still..."

Balthazar just shook his head. "I have internal damage also, Dave. And when doctors hit the point of doing x-rays, or even blood work, things aren't going to add up." He brought his hand up to his ruined chest. There was a lot of damage to my heart that Merlin had to be... creative about fixing."

Dave's brow furrowed, immediately worried. "Your heart? It's not—"

But Balthazar cut him off before he could continue, "Not to mention that blood cells do strange things in a man who doesn't age." His eyes darkened. "I've gone to the doctor once in the past hundred years or so. Never again. When you're an interesting patient, they don't always like letting you back out."

"But—"

"Anyways, these scars are a reminder to me."

That gave Dave a pause. "A reminder?"

Balthazar's eyes grew distant. "Yeah. A reminder of the things I've done."

"The things you've done?" Dave finally pulled out of his horror long enough to respond in exasperation, "Seriously... Things you've _done_? You mean like dying to save the world? How about taking on Morgana alone so I wouldn't get hurt? Or trading your freedom for Veronica's when she was released from the Grimhold?" He shook his head in frustration, continuing sarcastically, "Yeah, Balthazar. Those are some pretty terrible things you've done."

Balthazar didn't even grace that with a response, dropping his vest on the crate by his water bottle, and throwing on the shirt. Quickly buttoning it up to the neck as usual. He looked like always did. Only it would never quite be the same again. Because now Dave would always know what his master—and friend—was, and always had been, hiding.

The old man finished fastening the buttons of his cuffs. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not the first person to be injured in a war. This is all ancient history. Literally."

A muscle in Dave's jaw tightened, but he managed to simply choke out, "Fine. Let's drop it."

Balthazar nodded approvingly. "On to training?"

Dave winced at that, his worry about injuring the man resurfacing with a vengeance. He wanted to train—for once, _really_ wanted to train—so he could help protect his friend. But at the same time, he knew he wouldn't be able to put anything into it while he was still thinking about the old man's scars and worrying that he would accidentally add a new one to the seemingly endless list of injuries.

"Can we get lunch first?" he suggested, quickly. "I missed breakfast. I won't be able to concentrate without food."

"We aren't ordering pizza."

"I was thinking more like Chinese." His words came out in a rush. "There's this new place a few stops down the subway line. Great stuff. I could go pick up some and maybe you could do a little more of your own training."

"Absolutely not," Balthazar interrupted, his voice sharp. "I don't want you going anywhere alone."

"I'll take the ring with me. This time of day, the subway's crowded, and like you said, the safest place I can be right now is in a crowd."

"Not without Veronica or I—"

"You let me go to class alone."

"That was different."

"Look, I'm just picking up lunch. Everyone and their mother is going to be doing the same thing. The Chinese place is right outside the subway."

"And to get to the new entrance from here, you need to walk through an empty access passage. He can ambush you there."

"He won't take me by surprise. And you taught me well enough to at least be able to hold up a shield long enough to get back here if I need to." Dave dug his hand into his pocket and yanked the dragon ring out, jamming it onto his finger. "Look. I'm ready for him."

At Balthazar's hesitation, he added quietly, "I just need a break from all of this for like half an hour. When I get back, we'll eat lunch and I'll train harder than I have in my life. But I need to get away for awhile."

Balthazar sighed. "Fine. Just hold on a minute." He walked over to his box of nick-knacks from the shop and dug around for a few seconds until he found what he was looking for. It was a large amethyst broach. He handed it over. "Here. Take this."

Dave gave Balthazar a funny look. "I'm not wearing this, Balthazar. The shoes are bad enough."

"It doesn't matter if you wear it. You can swallow it whole for all I care. Just keep it on you at all times."

"Why?"

"It's got enchantments on it. If anything goes wrong, hold your thumb against the stone."

"And what? It'll set off a bomb?"

Dave's weak attempt at joking to lighten up the tense atmosphere was completely ignored. "It's a kind of tracking device. I'll be able to find you with it if you turn up missing. The stone itself reacts to pressure. You press it and I'll know you're in trouble."

"How—"

"Not blind, Dave. Remember? I enchanted this thing years ago. The magic is solid. I know the feel of my own magic better than anything." He paused. "It's not much, but it's the only protection I can offer at the moment."

The boy nodded, sticking it deep into this pocket. Aware that Balthazar was doing the best he could to let Dave get some space without a fight. That it was probably taking everything in the man to just let him go. "Thanks," he added.

Balthazar shrugged it off, obviously still not happy with this decision. "Now go before I change my mind. And be quick. You're training when you get back."

* * *

The corridor that served as a passageway between the main tunnels of the modern subway and the old turnaround that been transformed into Dave's lab really wasn't all that long. Sure, the lighting sucked, so it was always shadowy and a little creepy, but nothing major. Dave had walked this route several times since he'd been assigned his secret lab space. No problems. Not one.

It was amazing how the knowledge that there was a magical madman bent on revenge after him made this short walk far more terrifying. For all of his arguments that he'd be okay, he was still clenching his ring hand, ready as he could ever be to counter any sudden attack.

He actually had no desire to be out here. He wasn't even all that hungry. He just needed to get away from Balthazar long enough to banish the image of his friend's torn apart body from his mind.

He took a deep breath, staring straight ahead at the door on the other side of the hall that lead to freedom. Refusing to look at anything else. Walking as quickly as he could.

To his surprise, he reached the door with no incident. Breathing a sigh of relief, he grabbed the handle and yanked at it.

It didn't budge.

He tried again with both hands this time. Then he rattled it, as though that would help.

Nothing.

"It's locked?" he muttered. "Since when is this thing locked?" Then he remembered Veronica's simple response when they'd found the lab door locked the day of Balthazar's attack.

_Wards..._

"You know," a cool voice behind him commented, mildly, making him jump. "Veronica is very good with wards. I've actually had a difficult time of it since she set them... So it seemed prudent to set a few of my own. If you can't get in, then you make sure no one can safely get out. It's an old rule of warfare, though I don't imagine you'd be familiar with such a thing."

Dave spun, ring arm raised, to see Jacobus step out from a shadowy corner. "How did you know I was here?"

The older sorcerer laughed, stepping forward. "I didn't. I was simply testing her wards at all angles. Apparently you're just unlucky, boy." He casually began walking toward Dave.

"Stop," Dave commanded shakily, backing up a step, a ball of crackling plasma forming in the palm of his hand. Slowly, attempting to avoid Jacobus's notice, Dave lowered his other hand toward his pocket. "Stop, or I'll shoot."

Jacobus didn't even slow down. "You watch too many action movies, David. It doesn't work that way in our world." He motioned vaguely in Dave's direction, and before the youth could get his hands on Balthazar's tracker, he felt what seemed to be an invisible force hit him like a train and throw him backwards against the wall, his hands flat against the cold brick where Jacobus could see them.

The forming plasma died as soon as Dave's ability to move his hands was taken out of the equation.

Jacobus shook his head, tutting, finally stopping several feet away. "I take it my dear apprentice hasn't bothered teaching you to simultaneously attack and defend. Foolish of him, really. It leaves you open to attack the second you take the offensive." He sighed. "Then again, fighting never really was the boy's strong suit." He snorted derisively. "Obviously training isn't either or someone with your potential would be more of a challenge. I could kill you with my bare hands."

Dave scowled, a spark of anger drowning out the little voice in his head that screamed at him to shut up and think his way out. To hell with clearing his mind. He was sick of seeing what this man was doing to Balthazar. Through with hearing Jacobus constantly tear him apart.

"Lay off of him," Dave growled. "You haven't dealt with him in years. Probably centuries. You don't know him anymore." His eyes flashed as he thought back to the lasting damage this man had left Balthazar with, and he snapped, struggling against the old sorcerer's hold, "And you sure as hell don't know me."

Jacobus's grinned. "Ah, so the whelp _does_ have some fighting spirit. I was starting to worry that you were nothing but Balthazar's little pet. You certainly dote on him enough."

"I don't dote—" Dave sputtered. He gritted his teeth, snapping with false bravado, "Look, did you smash me against the wall for a reason?"

But Jacobus ignored him, studying Dave carefully. "With some work I might be able to correct some of the shortcomings Balthazar's poor excuse for training has left you with."

"He's twice the man you are," Dave spat out.

"Oh, do shut up," Jacobus drawled in a bored voice. "Your incessant babbling about the wonders of your master is getting tiresome. You only admire him because you've never seen any better. I intend to remedy that."

"I admire him because he's a good man."

"'Good' is a relative term. It's vague. We can be 'good' at murder. Your faultless master certainly was."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, of course. You've put him on a pedestal and are trying to protect that image of him. By all means continue if that makes you happy. I couldn't care less as long as you stop trying to convince me to do the same."

"I don't care what you think."

Jacobus narrowed his eyes. "You should. I hold your precious master's life in my hand. I'm here to make a deal with you. One life for another."

Dave's blood ran cold at those words. "What?"

"I'll spare him. In fact, I'll free him if you like. _If_ you come with me."

"You're lying. You want him, too."

Jacobus snorted at that. "I want to hurt him. I can do that just as well if I have you."

"Well, you're not going to get the chance. I know what you want."

"Do you?" Jacobus hissed. "Did he also tell you _why_?" At Dave's silence, he smiled. "I didn't think so. Your great master doesn't even trust you with the truth."

"He has his reasons."

"Of course he does. We all do. You're a fool, trained by a bigger fool. Again... something I intend to remedy."

Dave glared at him, futilely struggling once more against the magic holding him. Still unable to even move a finger. "Why even make a deal, then? You want me for whatever reason. You've already captured me. Just leave him alone."

"I've captured your body, David. That alone is useless to me. I need your spirit." His eyes gleamed as he added, "I need control."

"You want to own me," Dave growled out through clenched teeth, remembering Balthazar's words.

"Yes. If you want to put it like that. Specifically, I want you and your master to break oath."

"You seriously think I'd do that to him?"

"Of course not. You'll convince _him _to initiate it. Both of you must agree to it, but _he_ must break the oath himself."

Dave's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

The centuries old sorcerer waved his hand dismissively. "Because he is your master. If an apprentice could break oath, don't you think he'd have freed himself by now? If it's to be done, it will have to be by his hand."

"And then what? There's a catch. What is it?"

"My, my... a bit paranoid, aren't we?"

"What... is... it?" Dave bit out.

Jacobus shook his head patiently, as though he were teaching a particularly slow student. "Really, boy, you're in no position to demand answers, and I have no interest in continuing the discussion. Suffice it to say, I'm giving you the opportunity to save him, David, as he refused to do for you."

At the waver in Dave's expression, he added, "Oh yes. I offered to let him take your place. He declined. That's how much your 'good man' cares. He's only interested in saving himself."

Dave's steeled his expression. "Whatever he did, he did for a reason," he insisted, stubbornly. Refusing to believe that Balthazar would just leave him to the wolves. "I'm not breaking oath."

Jacobus sighed. "Do you even know what it means, boy?"

"Something bad."

Jacobus snorted. "Ridiculous. Breaking oath is exactly what it sounds like. You break the contract and go your separate ways. It won't kill him. It won't cause him pain and agony. It will simply void your contract. No injury to either of you."

"And then you're free to hunt both of us down. Divide and conquer."

There was a predatory gleam in the man's eyes. "Precisely."

"The answer is no. I'm not leaving him defenseless."

"You still insist upon protecting him even though he's refused to protect you?

"Just do whatever you plan to do."

Jacobus made a dismissive motion with his hand and Dave dropped to the ground, hard.

Dave didn't even take a moment to consider his moves. The second he hit the ground, he sent off a plasma bolt in Jacobus's direction, which the man easily blocked. "Try that again, and I'll remove both of your hands," he said quietly.

Another bolt was already forming around the dragon ring. "Pretty sure you're going to want me to have those intact for whatever you're up to."

Jacobus's lips curled into a frigid smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "True. Your master, however won't need his," he responded coolly. "There are a number of things he doesn't need, actually. And he can't stay in that lab forever. Shall I just keep you out here until he decides to up on you?"

Dave went ashen at that. Glaring daggers at the man, he slowly lowered his hands.

At that Jacobus burst out laughing. "You're a fool to care about him, boy. He'll only disappoint you in the end."

"He's only human," Dave retorted.

"Yes," Jacobus hissed, "and we humans are easily manipulated. Especially when our options become limited. The pressure becomes too much. And then," he snapped his fingers as though it were a simple matter, "we crumble."

Jacobus turned to leave just as Dave burst out defiantly, "You'll never break him."

The dark haired sorcerer turned back to him. "His mind is more fragile than you think, boy. I've cracked it once. Shattering now it will be simple." He sidestepped to the nearby wall—carefully keeping his eyes trained on Dave the entire way—and pressed his hand against the brick, causing it to slowly fold outward into an empty adjacent tunnel. "Consider the offer while you still have a choice. His freedom for yours. Who's life do you care more about?"

The wall clicked into place, and Jacobus moved to finally leave, then paused partway through the opening, glancing back and adding calmly. "You know, the real beauty of the oath is that even though he does things against his will, he's fully aware of his every action, even as he struggles against the command. Did you know that your great and powerful master cried the first time I sent him to kill a man?" His icy eyes locked with Dave's for a single instant. "I wonder if he'd cry if I sent him to kill his wife." With those words, he turned away. "My offer stands. Give my regards to Veronica."

The wall closed shut behind him, leaving Dave alone in the heavy silence.

* * *

_Author's Note: Look! A longer chapter to make up for the last one! And no three month wait! Thanks to kaytori, frostphoenix, and lolo popoki for betaing:) And thanks to you for reading and (hopefully) reviewing. Because I kid you not... I'm insanely motivated by reviews._

_Dewa mata!  
_

_Sirius:)  
_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Even though he was actually shaking from his encounter with Jacobus, Dave still managed to take the subway to the Chinese restaurant, pick up some food, and come back, forcing himself to walk through the access tunnel, which apparently Jacobus had opened for him, upon his return so that Balthazar wouldn't suspect anything was wrong. He didn't want the old man to know about the encounter. Balthazar was already under enough strain. And honestly, Dave was afraid that his master would do something stupid and get himself killed if he knew that Jacobus had managed to get Dave alone.

So by the time Dave got back, it was all he could do to steel himself for questions before entering the lab.

He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. Balthazar had pulled a couple of rusty metal folding chairs from the back storage room and had apparently found an old, beat up card table back there as well, all of which he'd set up at the edge of the Circle furthest from the Pentagram. He must have been digging for awhile. His black shirt was streaked with lines of grey dust and there were a couple dark smudges on his hands as well. He now sat at the rickety-looking table reading from his own Incantus. Without looking up, he motioned to Dave to join him. "You took long enough," was his only comment.

"Sorry," Dave muttered, clattering down the stairs and setting the drink carrier and food down on the table. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I grabbed you some chop suey and an iced tea."

"Perfect." The old man glanced up briefly over his reading glasses. "Are you going to sit?"

Flustered, Dave yanked out a chair and dropped onto it. More to be doing something than any other reason, he yanked a straw out of the bag and popped it through the lid of the cup, proceeding to then poke down every little plastic bubble on the top of the lid as well. And Balthazar's too. Anything to avoid making eye contact.

"Any particular reason we both need our drinks marked diet/ tea/ other?" the old man asked, his voice a touch amused.

But there was something else to his tone as well, and Dave's head snapped up. Something was off. He studied his master carefully. There was a slight strain to the man's features. He glanced down to his master's hands, which were tightly clutching the book. "What's wrong?" the boy asked tentatively.

Balthazar released the Incantus and rested his elbows on the table in front of it. Thoughtfully he reached for a straw and popped it into his own drink, pulling it toward him and taking a sip. He seemed to be considering his words carefully. "You spent over ten minutes crossing an access tunnel that's maybe thirty meters long. Any particular reason for that?"

_Shit._

"I got distracted," he replied carefully.

Balthazar's grip tightened on his cup. "And was there a special reason you didn't touch the amulet?" His voice was eerily calm.

Dave's eyes dropped to the table. "Because I couldn't reach it quickly enough."

Balthazar glanced up and scrutinized the boy for a moment before grunting softly and finally releasing his death grip on the cup. Surprisingly Balthazar didn't look angry. "You're sure it wasn't to keep me 'safe?'"

Dave didn't even try to lie. "He had me against the wall. By the time he let me go, there wasn't really a point anyway. He was leaving." He paused. "How did you—"

"I used the broach to check up on you. It gives me a feel for about how far you are. And when I checked, you weren't far enough. I gave you enough time to be halfway to your Chinese place and by the time I looked you were only just leaving the tunnel."

"And you didn't come after me?" Dave asked, frowning in his confusion. Since when did Balthazar just leave him to fend for himself? Sure, Dave always grumbled about the old man following him. But suddenly, now that his master hadn't, Dave was surprised to realize how much he'd always counted on it.

Then again, who knew what Jacobus would have done if he had...

Balthazar hesitated, admitting slowly, "I trusted that you'd call me if you needed help. I couldn't have done much to protect you. If I stepped out there, I thought he might try to hurt you to get to me."

Dave gaped at Balthazar's admission of his inability to help. He dropped his eyes down to his drink, responding awkwardly, "He sort of implied that he needs me intact."

"Intact does not equate to unharmed." Balthazar's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, he and I have a bond, whether I like it or not. I can get a feel for him if I'm trying—nothing as precise as the amulet—but enough... He was already gone by the time I noticed. I kept closer tabs on you after that." His voice was a bit angry, but it clearly wasn't directed at Dave. "I should have been tracking you from the start."

"Not your fault," Dave jumped in quickly. "I'm the idiot who went out alone."

Balthazar didn't contradict him, not that Dave had expected him to. Balthazar didn't waste time comforting you for your mistakes. That was actually one nice thing about him when you got used to it. Because if he did praise you or tell you that something wasn't your fault, then you knew he meant it. You never had to wonder. He hid things, but he never outright lied, even to make you feel better.

Dave abruptly looked up, something from his and Jacobus's conversation suddenly coming to mind. "Balthazar?"

"What?"

"What does breaking oath entail?"

Balthazar's eyes shuttered off. "What do you think?"

Dave hesitated. "Jacobus said it just means breaking the contract."

His friend nodded, and to Dave's surprise simply answered, "That about sums it up."

"Then why is it bad?"

Balthazar leaned back in is chair. "It isn't. There are cases when it's necessary. If training isn't working between a master and apprentice, for instance, it's agreed that they break oath and they go their separate ways. That way an apprentice is no longer controlled by a man who has no other ties to him."

"So if we broke oath, you wouldn't own me anymore?"

"Right." Balthazar lifted his chin a touch, staring hard at the boy before him. "Is that what Jacobus wanted? Us to break oath?"

Dave nodded thoughtfully. "If that's all it is, then why was Veronica so upset when you were mad and suggested it?"

"Because breaking oath severs the bond between master and apprentice. Completely and irreparably."

"What?"

Balthazar leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. "When we made the oath, it created a connection between us. A very powerful bond that allows a master to control his apprentice. That even allows us to sense each other's moods or even, at times—especially when augmented by something like the broach—get a feel for each other's location. That connection is like a transferred signal." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it up. "Kind of like this. I dial you across the country, you still get the message. I make a command from the same distance, you get it loud and clear unless you're pretty damn far. Understand?"

Dave nodded hesitantly. "Kind of."

Balthazar nodded, continuing, "If we do magic in each other's presence, or even from across town, we can use that connection to help feed each other power if necessary. We're bound very tightly by that contract. So, in most cases it's a good thing."

"And if you break the contract?"

Balthazar set his phone down on the table, drumming his fingers against it. "If we break oath, then the connection is gone. The good news is that I'd lose control over you." He paused, his eyes focusing on the youth in front of him. Dave couldn't help but notice how tired his friend looked.

"And the bad news?"

"I'd never be able to train you again. I'd lose all access to your Incantus, and you mine. We'd never share the Circle again." He paused. "I'd leave. And I wouldn't come back."

"You wouldn't have to leave, Balthazar, even if we did it. Teacher or not, you're still my friend..."

"That's not how it works, Dave," he responded tightly. "I've told you that before." He scooped the phone back up, using it to point in Dave's general direction. "The Oath allows us a connection of magic. Breaking the Oath disrupts it. Like putting this," he wiggled the phone in the air to draw Dave's eyes, "by a speaker. Or a computer. Our proximity would not only no longer give our magic strength, but it would actually cause interference for both of us. We'd _have_ to separate or end our lives as any worthwhile sorcerer."

Dave studied his master quietly, taking this new information in. So, the choice was keep the Oath intact and risk Jacobus killing Veronica to get to him and Balthazar. Or break Oath and either lose Balthazar or lose magic. Dave's eyes locked with his masters. "I can live without magic, Balthazar," Dave responded firmly.

Balthazar snorted at that, shoving the phone back in his pocket. "Of course you can," he said, glancing away, "but until now, I never have. And in case you haven't noticed, I don't like it. Anyway, I'm not taking magic away from you. It would be a death sentence. You're the Prime Merlinian with or without your ability to do magic. Like it or not, if the Oath breaks, then I leave."

Dave glared down at the table. "So... what? That's it? We're master and apprentice forever or we break? Like, even when you're done teaching me?"

Balthazar hesitated. "No. When you complete training, my control will fade. We become equals."

Dave's eyes lit up. _Thank god for loopholes..._ "Then we wait for that."

Dave could tell from the look on his master's face that it wouldn't be that easy. "It doesn't break the bond, Dave. Only the control. I won't own you, but you'll still be tied to me."

Dave just stared at his master, not understanding the problem. "So what?"

"For good. _That_ won't fade." Balthazar's expression was earnest. As though this were a serious consequence to consider.

Dave didn't get it. "I repeat... so what? You think that's a bad thing or something? So, we're tied together, but you don't own me anymore. I'm not seeing the problem here."

"I don't like the idea of you being tied down." He glanced away.

Dave's eyes narrowed. "You're lying. I can tell. You're doing that little 'look away' thing. What's the real reason, Balthazar?"

Balthazar was silent for a long moment. So long that for an instant Dave thought he was going to play his usual card and ignore the question. Then, to Dave's surprise, he spoke. "We're a bad combination, Dave. I'm the most hunted sorcerer alive and you're the biggest prize. There are probably hundreds of people who'd love to take us down individually. Together, that number increases exponentially. Especially when we throw Veronica into the mix. If you're linked to me, people will never back off, even when you prove you can hold them back. This sort of thing will never end. And even if they aren't interested in you, they'll use you to get to me and vice versa. I'm a danger to you. If we break oath, I won't be around. There will be no connection. And you'll never have to know if something happens to me. It's the best solution."

"No, Balthazar. It's not the best. It's not even good. They can still let me know if they have you. They can still use you against me. So what's the point in going away? We can stand up to them together if you stay."

Balthazar snorted softly. "We won't need to if I leave. I'll be here until you're powerful enough to fight on your own." He glanced back at his apprentice. "Trust me, Dave. The sooner I'm gone, the easier it'll be. Distance will lessen any ties leftover from the Oath. Time will take care of the rest."

Dave dropped his head back and staring up at the ceiling. "Balthazar," he responded as calmly as he could in his frustration, constantly amazed that such a brilliant man could be so dense sometimes. "You being gone won't 'lessen' anything. And breaking Oath won't break our 'bond'... at least not on my end. Friendship for me goes a little deeper than that," he added, a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice. "But maybe it's different for you."

Balthazar bristled, but said nothing.

"I'm never agreeing to this if it means you're going to leave. We're friends. I'm not losing a friend over some stupid, old rule."

"Friends are equals, Dave. I'm not your equal if I own you. You know that. You've said it yourself. I'm your master, not your friend. Remember?"

"I was angry."

"But you were right."

"Balthazar. You can't make me agree to this. I have the right to refuse."

"So you're planning to take away my right to leave?" At Dave's silence, he added quietly, "Look, Dave, you're trying to make me into something I'm not. I'm just your teacher. That's it." He made eye contact once more. "When we're done, it's over. I'm okay with that. You need to get with the program." Balthazar tugged his pocket watch out to check the time.

For once Dave couldn't tell if the old man were lying or not. There had been something hard in his eyes, firm in his voice. But something had still been off.

Dave's unmoving silence must have lasted too long, because after Balthazar snapped the watch shut and shoved it back into his pocket, glancing back up at the boy. "Anyway," he added calmly, "we've got a few years before we have to cross that bridge. I'm not leaving my apprentice half-trained. We don't break with each other until you're ready for it. It doesn't matter what threats Jacobus digs up." He stood, slamming the Incantus shut.

"What if he threatens Veronica?"

Balthazar froze. Slowly, he took off his glasses, folded them, and laid them on the book. Closing his eyes, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, asking, "Did he?"

Dave swallowed hard. "He implied that he'd make you kill her if we didn't break oath."

Balthazar nodded, quiet for a moment. Then, firmly he answered, "You aren't ready to be left alone. Now drop it."

"Balthazar, I—"

"Drop it. You had time to eat while we talked. We're training now. Move."

Dave nodded. "Right. Sorry." He stood.

"Into the Circle."

Dave silently complied. "Which domain?"

"Elemental."

"Sure," he replied, frustrated. How had everything gotten so complicated in only two days? Jacobus was already getting control of Balthazar bit by bit. When he did, he'd make Balthazar kill Veronica, and then he'd take Dave. That would be enough to make anyone snap, even a man like Balthazar. And the only way to prevent it was to break oath and never see either of them again. Because Dave knew that if Balthazar was forced to leave, Veronica would of course leave with him.

"Dave." Balthazar's sharp voice broke into his thoughts.

The boy's head snapped up as he met his master's gaze. There was, surprisingly, a faint smile on the old man's lips. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Dave blinked. "For what?"

"Don't worry about it. It just needed to be said." He paused. "And don't worry about me. I'll take care of this. Just watch out for yourself. And keep an eye on Veronica. I'll give her the head's up, too."

"But I—"

"Let's go. Simultaneous attack and defense isn't easy. It's going to take some work, so let's get started."

* * *

They were at it for a couple of hours before Balthazar called a break, to Dave's surprise. He motioned Dave to the card table. "Sit."

Dave dragged himself over and dropped into a chair and took a long drink of his iced tea. There was a puzzled look on his face. Sure, he was tired, but still... "Why are we stopping? We usually go until I'm ready to drop with new stuff."

"I know what we usually do," Balthazar replied, a touch of annoyance creeping into his voice. "But this isn't usual training, is it?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know when I'm getting it?"

"You seem to be. Might as well stop. We can't move forward, so any more of this is a waste of time."

"What?"

"I prefer active training. Unless you have a real bolt sent at you, you aren't going to have the pressure to perform. So yes, we know you can now lift a shield and at least lob out a halfway decent plasma bolt at the same time." He shook his head, obviously frustrated. "But we don't know if you can do it quickly under pressure. Or if the strain of doing both with weaken your shield or attack too much to be effective. Without testing it first, you could endanger yourself by trying it out in a real life situation."

Dave turned away, not liking the worn look on his master's face. "So, what do we do?"

"We bring Veronica next time."

Dave's head snapped up. "Can she train me without the Circle?"

"No. But she can shoot at you."

"Well, that's comforting."

Balthazar smiled. "I'll tell her to go easy on you."

"So what now?"

"You'll just have to practice what you already know." He brought his hand to his head, wincing.

"What's wrong?" Dave asked, worried.

"Headache," Balthazar responded, rubbing at his temple a bit. "I haven't slept well. I'm starting to feel it."

"You want an aspirin or something? There's a first-aid kit in the desk."

Balthazar snorted. "Thanks, but I'll refrain. I don't need pills to deal with a minor annoyance." A wicked grin flashed across his face. "Otherwise I'd go through an entire bottle every time we train."

"Ha. Ha."

Another moment and Balthazar's hand finally dropped.

"Gone?"

"Better. It's not going away any time soon."

Dave tried to mask his worry, and even though he was certain that Balthazar could read it on his face, the older man refrained from comment.

"Levitation then?" Balthazar said, shaking his head a little as though to clear it.

Dave studied his master. "How about hand to hand? You'd get more training that way, and we _both_ know that I need it. I doubt I'm going to scare Jacobus much with my impressive muscles."

"You're not going to scare him at all." Balthazar's eyes were intense. "Just remember, no matter what happens, just because a sorcerer may not be physically strong doesn't mean he's no threat. Some of the best sorcerers have more important powers than raw strength."

"Like innate magical skills."

Balthazar cocked an eyebrow. "Not what I meant, but yes. That, too."

Dave didn't even try to figure out what that was supposed to mean. "So combat stuff?"

Balthazar hesitated.

"Balthazar, I want to help."

At those words, Balthazar closed right up. Sharply, he responded, "No."

"Why?"

"Because I said so," he snapped, irritably. "We can practice combat if you want, but the best way you can help me right now is to stay away from him."

"_Why_?" Dave demanded. "You said yourself that his wife was the one who did all that to you," he motioned vaguely to his master. "_She_ was the physical one. All Jacobus does is threaten people. He _had_ me, Balthazar. He could have killed me right there if he'd wanted to. Or taken me. He's afraid to make a move."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Balthazar snarled. "Only an idiot attacks an unknown opponent, and that's exactly what you are to him. You took down his own master, and he knows nothing about you except for that. He's been probing you for your weaknesses. Once he figures them out, he'll strike." Balthazar shook his head. "You've never been in a real war, Dave. The most dangerous enemies are the ones who take the time to learn everything about you. This isn't _Face Off_. It's not _Con Air._ The bad guys don't attack within minutes of their introduction. And they don't move non-stop. This isn't an action movie, Dave."

Dave covered his hands in frustration, sick of the lectures. "All right. I get it. Geez. You sound like him—" The second the words were out of his mouth, their significance registered and he blanched. "Shit. Balthazar, I didn't mean it like that..."

But it was too late. The Merlinian's eyes immediately shuttered and he turned away abruptly. "I know what you meant." But his voice was stiff. He may have known, but that didn't change the fact that Dave had unintentionally reinforced the one thing he'd been trying to free Balthazar from since the beginning.

"I just meant the movie stuff. He said the same—"

"Drop it." There was a warning quality to the old man's voice. He was barely holding in his immediate reactions. And Dave was pretty sure he didn't want to know what would happen if Balthazar suddenly let them all out.

"Right," he muttered, guiltily.

Balthazar studied him carefully until Dave began feeling like he was a bug in a jar. Finally he spoke. "You want to help?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to listen to me for a change if I let you?"

"Yes."

"Even if you don't like what I say? If it means backing off?"

"If it's reasonable."

"Dave, these are yes or no questions. You give me one 'no' and I stop considering."

"Fine. Yes. As long as I can help you, then yes."

"All right, then..." He began unbuttoning his vest again. "Let's get started."

Dave winced, immediately averting his eyes. "Balthazar... what are you doing?" He'd finally managed to start blocking a bit of the damage from his mind.

"The shirt's too stiff to fight properly in."

Dave's attention snapped back up to his master's face. "Wait... _Fight_? _What_? You just mean combat training, right?" At Balthazar's lack of response, he added more forcefully, "_Right_?"

Balthazar yanked the vest off and tossed it down, then moved on to the shirt. "Doing as I say, remember?"

"Who are you fighting, Balthazar?"

The old man just stared at him a moment.

"Oh, god, Balthazar. Please tell me I'm not fighting you. _Please_ tell me that you realize how bad an idea that is..." He floundered a moment before adding. "This is like possessing Tank bad."

Balthazar undid the last button and pulled the shirt off, tossing it to the side. "If you beat me, then you can help." His expression hardened. "And you'd better use magic. Consider this a full-blown attack."

"No. Balthazar, I don't want to hurt you."

"Hesitating like this against him will get you killed."

"You can't defend yourself against me," Dave exploded.

Balthazar merely smirked at him. "Then I should be easy to take down, shouldn't I?"

"Balthazar..."

"Your choice." His master shrugged. "But I won't be making this offer again."

Dave's jaw clenched. If he agreed, one mistake... one miscalculation... and he could hurt his friend. But if he didn't, Jacobus would do it for sure. And _he_ wouldn't hold back. "All right," he replied tightly, stepping into the circle. "Let's go."

Balthazar merely nodded and planted himself on the opposite end of the circle.

The both stood unmoving for what felt like an eternity before Dave realized that he was going to have to make the first move. _Dammit_. Slowly, uncomfortably, he raised his hands, forming a plasma bolt between them. It wasn't his strongest, but Dave was pretty sure it could throw someone to the ground. He blasted it in his master's direction.

Balthazar didn't bat an eye, holding his ground until at the last possible moment, he dove out of the way, landing in a roll. He came up by the card table just as another blast came in his direction. Grabbing a chair, he flipped it shut and whipped it horizontally with both hands directly into the bolt. The bolt dissipated as it tore the chair apart. Balthazar knocked the card table down, throwing Chinese food and empty cups all over the floor, and used it as protection against flying pieces of metal as Dave briefly drew up a shield of his own to protect himself as well.

As soon as the debris settled, Dave dropped the shield to attack again.

Balthazar grabbed the remaining chair soon as he saw Dave predictably form another plasma bolt. Before Dave could release it, Balthazar took the offensive, whipping the second chair in Dave's direction. Instinctively Dave raised his shield again, just as he was lobbing the bolt at Balthazar. The second he released his attack, the shield faltered and the chair, not slowed enough by the greatly weakened bolt and the flickering remains of his shield, caught Dave in the chest, knocking him flat. He lay on the ground, breathing hard.

Balthazar approached him, commenting mildly, "Well, I guess that answers whether or not you can attack and defend at the same time in a real fight." He offered out a hand. At Dave's hesitation he added, "Truce."

"Yeah," Dave muttered, taking the hand and letting the older man haul him up. He rubbed his aching back.

The old man glanced up at the clock on the wall. "You barely lasted two minutes against me. You wouldn't last five seconds against Jacobus, Dave. You aren't helping," Balthazar said flatly. "Now, clean up what's left of the chairs. I'll see if there are any more in the back." He turned, bringing his hand to his head.

"I want to try again," Dave burst out. "I won't hold back this time."

The old sorcerer didn't even break stride. "You're lying, Dave... if not to me, then to yourself. You don't want to hurt me. It's one of your weaknesses, and I'll be able to use it against you every time. Just like I used your inability to attack and defend at the same time. Or the fact that you rely too much on plasma bolts. Now clean up."

"No. Balthazar, one more chance. Please."

But Balthazar ignored him, continuing to walk to the back room. Just as he made it to the door, he stopped, holding his head again. With his other hand, he leaned heavily against a tool shelf beside the door.

"Balthazar? Are you okay?" Dave took a tentative step toward his friend.

"Get out of here, Dave," Balthazar said in a low voice.

"Balthazar?"

The man's voice was low and even, each word carefully metered out. "Get the keys from my coat and take the Phantom. Don't go home. Get out of here." He sounded like he was forcing each word out through clenched teeth. "Now."

Dave's eyes widened in alarm. "He's coming back, isn't he?"

"Dave." Balthazar's voice was warning.

"If he's coming, then I'm staying here."

"_Dave_," Balthazar snarled, his voice taking on an odd, harsh tone. "For once in your life, shut up and listen to me. Go. You're in danger. I'm not. Just _go _before I—." He broke off sharply.

"No." Dave straightened up. "Not without you."

"_Dammit_," Balthazar hissed, his grip tightening on the shelf. He made a sound like he was going to say something more, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, Balthazar abruptly turned and in a jerky motion, scooped up a knife from the shelf. Before Dave could even react, he sent it sailing end over end, directly at Dave's face.

Dave barely managed to freeze the knife mid-air and drop it before it hit its target. "Balthazar!" Dave shouted, throwing up a shield just in case his master sent something else in his direction, but the man was already in motion again, walking rapidly to the control cage and bending to retrieve something long and thin from the box of nick-knacks he'd brought from the shop.

"A _sword_? _Seriously_? You brought a _sword_?" How the hell was he supposed to deflect that? He'd seen Balthazar and Horvath fight with swords once. Neither had bothered using magic against it, leading Dave to assume that magic couldn't block something like that.

Dave frantically looked around for some way to protect himself. _Shield. I need a shield. A real one..._ But all he had were pizza boxes and a card table. And anyway, Dave didn't doubt that if Balthazar got near enough to him that Dave would need a physical shield, then Dave would already be as good as dead. He couldn't let Balthazar get close.

He dropped his protective shield and readied a plasma bolt, unwilling to let himself weaken it with another attempt at simultaneous attack and offense. He steeled himself to attack. _Jacobus is doing this. It's Jacobus I'm fighting. Not Balthazar._ It was almost a mantra. _Not him. Not him. Not him..._

He'd almost convinced himself. Almost allowed himself to properly attack, when he glanced up at his master's face.

The bolt faltered. Balthazar had hesitated, struggling to regain control of himself. He was fighting, and losing. But still, he was trying. And Dave realized suddenly that Balthazar was right. He couldn't do it. No, Balthazar wasn't in control, but he was still in there, and Dave still didn't have enough control over the intensity of his plasma bolts to be sure he wouldn't seriously injure the old man. He had to disarm Balthazar, not attack. He eyed the sword. Would it be possible to levitate it out of the man's hands? Probably not. The thing had come from the shop. It probably had more enchantments on it than the car. Hell, it was Balthazar's. God knows, it was probably Excalibur. Seemed like something Balthazar would have lying around.

_Still... Can't hurt to try. I might get lucky..._ He raised one hand as his master had taught him, and made a motion as though grabbing the sword. The blade didn't budge, but an agonizing pain shot through Dave's hand as he pulled back. He cried out in pain, his gaze flashing down to the blood flowing freely from the damaged palm of his hand. He took a step back, cradling his hand, his hand screaming in enough pain to drown out logical reasoning for a few fatal moments.

Balthazar's internal struggle was all that saved Dave as he barely managed to shove down the nausea from the knowledge that his hand was sliced open and gushing blood.

Just as Dave managed to regain his bearings, Balthazar lost his battle of wills again as Jacobus tightened his grip on his old apprentice. The old sorcerer shifted fluidly from a defensive position to an offensive one. Then a moment later, he charged.

Dave sprinted toward the card table, his injured hand tucked under his arm. He levitated a few pizza boxes from a crate nearby and flung them in his master's direction to buy himself a second or two as he dove behind the fallen table. His protection lasted all of thirty seconds before he was forced to launch himself back to his feet into a stumbling run as Balthazar forcefully kicked Dave's makeshift shield out of the way.

Dave was forced to shoot off as weak a plasma bolt as he could muster to force the man back. Balthazar easily blocked it with the sword. Dave wasted half a second gaping at that feat. How many enchantments were on that thing?

_How the hell do I take him down?_

Balthazar slowly approached him, his grip so tight on the sword that his knuckles were white. Dave's eyes landed on the broken back of one of the shattered folding chairs that rested behind Balthazar. _Maybe..._

He motioned with his uninjured hand sharply, hastily levitating the broken metal, and, before his master could respond, swung it hard at Balthazar's back.

The force threw the old man to the floor. He landed hard on his right shoulder and cursed in pain, his hand releasing the sword as his shoulder slid briefly against the rough cement.

The second the weapon was out of Balthazar's grasp, Dave shot his hand out, using his magic to grab it and fling it to the opposite side of the room. Now that it was no longer in use, it clattered harmlessly across the floor, this time leaving Dave uninjured.

The youth then turned his attention back to his friend, approaching him slowly. Balthazar had rolled over to his back, his face pale and glistening with a cold sweat in the uneven light. His eyes were closed. His breathing ragged. A painful sounding hiss escaped through his clenched teeth. The bandages from his right shoulder had torn off where he'd skidded across the cold, cracked cement, and Dave could finally see the more recent injuries that Balthazar had been hiding. His collarbone was at an awkward angle. There was massive bruising across his shoulder and a deep gash that didn't look like it had been treated as well as it should have been.

It was no wonder that Balthazar had cried out when he'd landed. Even a man like him would have had to react to the kind of pain that the impact would have caused an injury like this.

Dave tentatively raised a weak shield just in case Balthazar attacked again, but the man was motionless. "Balthazar?" He paused, adding, "Are you yourself again?"

Silence. No movement from his friend except for the rise and fall of his chest. No sound except for the continued, pained wheezing. He must have hit his head as well when he'd gone down.

Dave dropped the shield, finally hurrying to his master's side. "Balthazar! Are you okay?"

It came out of nowhere. Dave had never seen anyone move as quickly as the old sorcerer did just then. Before Dave could even think, Balthazar's leg shot out, catching Dave's ankle and he took the boy down.

Dave managed to twist himself enough that his arm and hand took the worst of the impact as he hit the floor, but he wasn't quick enough to get up before Balthazar was on top of him, twisting him onto his back.

The old sorcerer locked his hands—much stronger than Dave's from years of fighting—over Dave's own, wrenching the boy's wrists up and crossing the arms, wrapping the youth's hands around his own neck. Balthazar's fingers tightened around Dave's neck.

"Balthazar, stop..." Dave managed to choke out. "Fight it." But the words were pointless and Dave knew it. He could see the pain twisting his master's features. Balthazar was already fighting it. He'd been fighting it since he'd warned Dave to run. This wasn't his fault.

Dave's breath caught as his throat began to ache and burn in flashes of pain. Now that Balthazar had pinned Dave's hands, Dave couldn't magic himself out of the situation. Balthazar had never gotten around to teaching him if there was a way to do magic without moving his hands. Dave would probably kill himself if he tried with his fingers digging into his own throat.

He struggled, but he was losing air and had no leverage with Balthazar's knee digging painfully into his solar plexus. Through bleary eyes, he could see his master clamp his own tightly shut, offering himself what little protection he could from the atrocity he was about to commit. If he died here and now, Dave didn't doubt that Balthazar would hate himself forever. He'd never be the same.

There was an odd glistening to the old man's eyes as he pulled in a single shuddering breath.

Dave snapped his eyes shut at that. If he was going to die like this, he didn't want to see what it was going to do to his friend. Using the last bit of air he could muster, he whispered, "It's okay. If it happens, it's not your fault." He forced an agonizingly slow breath. "It's his."

One more sharp squeeze and Dave thought he was going to black out. Then, to Dave's surprise, the pressure on his neck inexplicably released and Dave realized that he could breathe again, albeit painfully. But he was no longer dying.

Which meant that Balthazar was no longer trying to kill him. And _that_ meant that he'd managed to throw Jacobus off. "Balthazar?" Dave whispered. The singled gasped out word led him into a painful fit of coughing.

"Don't talk." Balthazar's voice was almost inaudible. "Just breathe." His voice was exhausted. Half-dead.

But it was clearly _Balthazar_ and that's all Dave cared about. Dave was alive. Balthazar was himself again. He didn't kill anyone. Dave ignored Balthazar's command, struggling to sit up. Expecting Balthazar to push him down to enforce his order. Surprised when the old man didn't so much as touch him. "Are you all right?" Dave managed to choke out before coughing again, harder this time. He dropped down onto his back again, breathing hard.

There was a long moment of silence. Then in that same quiet, empty voice Balthazar replied. "Don't ask me that." He paused, adding darkly. "And do not tell me it wasn't my fault."

"Balthazar. You shook him off." Dave turned his head enough to see his master on his knees beside him.

"No, Dave. I didn't. I'd have killed you. He let me go."

"What? Why?" Dave struggled to sit up, but Balthazar finally risked touching him enough to push him back to the floor.

"Stay down."

"Why?"

"It was a message Dave. He was making a point. He isn't playing anymore. He's just declared war. Against you."

* * *

_Author's Note: Thanks to my betas kaytori, lolo popoki and FrostPhoenix, and of course to all of the readers and reviewers out there. I really appreciate your taking the time to read and critique my work. And I hope you continue to enjoy it._

_I did want to add, sorry for the slow pace. I'm not a fast paced writer. You should see my Kenshin fics. Took me 30 chapters to get through 3 days once. But I heard the payout was worth it. Humor me if you can. I'm hoping the payout is worth it in this fic as well. I'm trying to keep it worth reading. Thanks so much for the concrit:)_

_Dewa mata!_

_Sirius:)  
_


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

They were silent for several minutes. Dave remained on his back, where his master had gently guided him, struggling to slowly catch his breath. As soon as Balthazar had been certain that Dave wasn't going to try to get up again, he had walked off to pace at the other end of the room, far from his apprentice.

Dave could hear the steady tap of his master's shoes as he strode back and forth near the control cage. The youth took as deep a breath as he could, testing. It seemed okay. He could finally breathe again. The ache in his lungs had faded somewhat. His throat was still on fire and he could feel the painful throb of his neck with every beat of his heart. It was going to bruise. Badly. It was probably already starting. The back of his head pounded where it had hit the cold cement when Balthazar had taken him down. And his hand... Balthazar had left him long enough after their brief talk to grab the first aid kit in the desk so he could properly clean and dress his apprentice's wound.

Dave noted that not once had the old man made any eye contact. The expression on his face had been terrible. Empty of all emotion except for a haunting flicker of guilt that he appeared to be barely keeping in check.

It was as though the attack on Dave had caused Balthazar an open and gaping wound of his own that was a thousand times worse than the gash in Dave's hand. Jacobus had hit both of his targets with one solid blow. And it was obvious that although _he _had been the one actually injured, it had been Balthazar who had suffered the most damage.

The worst part was that Dave could do nothing to help. His voice was weak and raw. Every word out of his mouth had clearly only twisted the knife in his master's heart a bit more, even when those words were meant to comfort. _Especially _then. So Dave had stopped. Because he couldn't stand to see Balthazar fall any further.

But it had been a good twenty minutes with no change. Balthazar was going to wear a hole in the floor. The silence was stifling, stave the steady click of his master's shoes, which was going to drive Dave insane soon. He couldn't wait any longer for Balthazar to snap out of it on his own. He felt a bit better. He had to try again. Because Balthazar's pain was palpable. The air was heavy with it. Something had to be done.

Slowly Dave sat up, then attempted to stand. "Balthazar..."

"Sit." The elder sorcerer didn't even pause in his pacing.

Dave completely ignored the order, using a nearby crate to haul himself to his feet.

"Dave," Balthazar growled, glancing briefly back at him, a warning tone in his voice. "I said sit."

"No," came Dave's tight response, "I think I'd rather stand."

At those words, Balthazar finally stopped his pacing and took a deep breath. "Dave," he began in the slow, careful voice that under normal circumstances would generally precede a plasma bolt or some other random show of authority, "you lost a lot of oxygen. If you try to do too much right away, you'll hurt yourself." Another deep breath. "So stop being stubborn and sit down."

Dave looked up at him defiantly. "If you want me to stop, you're going to have to come over here and make me." His master's eyes flashed at that, such a normal response that Dave risked pissing him off a little more, standing as quickly as he could manage with the intention of showing Balthazar that the attack had done no major damage.

What he hadn't expected was the wave of dizziness that abruptly hit him. His knees buckled and he dropped, barely catching himself on the crate again. Slamming one knee on the hard, cold floor. He unsuccessfully tried to bite back the instinctive cry of pain.

Balthazar was at his side almost immediately. "I told you to stay down," the Merlinian reprimanded as he eased his apprentice back to the floor. "When your air gets cut off too long, it takes some time to recover. Trust me. I have experience with it."

Dave sat on the cold cement, his back against the crate, eyes closed, taking slow, deep breaths. "Yeah..." he muttered, pissed at himself for making things worse yet. He sighed, expecting to hear the click of his master's shoes as he put distance between them once more. To his surprise, after a long pause, he instead heard the rustle of clothes rubbing against rough wood and the soft grunt of Balthazar dropping down to the floor across from him. The boy's eyes snapped open. Balthazar had seated himself, his back resting against another crate a few feet away, facing Dave. He was rubbing his thumb over one of his decoy rings thoughtfully, his eyes unfocused as he stared at some point past Dave's head. He was still avoiding eye contact as much as possible... but this was a start.

Dave studied the master sorcerer a minute. He'd thrown his dusty black shirt back on after treating Dave's injuries, but Dave had already seen enough. Dave knew that Balthazar hadn't bothered doing anything but cover up his own wounds with his shirt when he'd gone to get the bandages for Dave's hand.

"Balthazar?"

"Yes?" The old man didn't move. His gaze directed elsewhere.

Dave took as deep a breath as he could manage without coughing. "Are you planning on wrapping up your shoulder or are you going to just let it get infected?"

"I'm fine, Dave." The voice was mild, but Dave could see confusion and self-loathing at war within the man's storm blue eyes. "I've been through worse," he finally added.

"I'm aware of that," Dave responded through gritted teeth. "But that's the past. This is now. And right now you're bruised and bleeding with a collarbone that looks broken."

"I'll live."

"I'm aware of that, too. That's not the point."

His eyebrow quirked a touch, a humorless smirk twitching his lips. "There was a point?"

Dave's mouth tightened into a fine line, determination hardening his eyes. "He hurt you as much as me back there. More, probably." Before Balthazar could contradict him, he held up his hands. "Stop. Just let me finish this time."

A muscle tightened in his master's jaw, but he said nothing, instead sharply nodding to Dave to continue.

Dave nodded. "You warned me, Balthazar, and I ignored you. You fought him to buy me time to get out, and I didn't even try. It's as much my fault as yours that this happened." He ignored the angry flash of his master's eyes. "So go ahead and blame yourself if you want, but don't expect me to join you. Because like it or not, I'm not going to hate you. You're going to have to either accept that or leave me for good, because it isn't changing."

"I'm not breaking Oath with you," his master immediately retorted, appearing to miss the point entirely. "I already told you that. I may not be able to use magic, but the Oath itself will offer you some protection."

"Then I guess you're going to have to put this behind you for now."

Balthazar's eyes darkened, and he turned away again without answering. After a long, awkward silence, Dave asked. "So... what do we do now?"

"You're going to go home as soon as you can. I want you under Veronica's protection."

"And you?"

"I'm staying here." Dave opened his mouth to protest, but Balthazar didn't let him speak. "I'm too much of a risk."

"Then let's get you to Veronica, so she can help—"

"No," the old man snapped. "He's threatened to turn me against Veronica, too, remember? I'm a time bomb, Dave," he growled. "I can't hold him back forever."

"So you stay here alone and... what? We let him break into your mind again? What do you think will happen? He'll just send you after us anyway. If we're together, we can try to help..." He trailed off, exasperated.

"No. It's too dangerous. Do you have any idea what he'll do if he gets his hands on either of you?"

"No, Balthazar, I don't," came Dave's quick retort, his voice rising, "because you won't tell me. But what I _do_know is that he wants me for something, so he can only push me so far. He just wants to punish you. Sky's the limit." Dave stopped at that, taking a deep, calming breath. After a moment, he quietly added, "What happens if he breaks you?"

"Then I break."

There was a sick feeling in Dave's stomach as he remembered Veronica's description of the last time Jacobus had taken Balthazar. Catatonic and near death... "You say that like it doesn't matter," he choked out.

"It doesn't. I can handle pain, Dave. What matters is keeping you and Veronica safe. My life comes after that."

"That's selfish," Dave replied quietly, "and the Balthazar I know isn't selfish."

"We've already established that you don't know me very well, haven't we?"

Dave closed his eyes tightly, willing away the images of Veronica's story of Balthazar's torture that Dave's textbook had only managed to add realistic detail to. If Balthazar were taken, Dave honestly didn't know what he'd do...

No. They weren't going to let that happen. What threat would scare Balthazar into being reasonable?

His eyes hardened. "What if he turns you against people on the street?" Dave asked quietly. "What if he makes you hurt innocent people. Or kill some kid? Can you handle _that_?"

Whatever retort Balthazar had been prepared to give, died in his throat at those words and he blanched.

Dave glanced away. He hated seeing that sick, guilty, _helpless_look on his friend's face... but if it was the only way to keep him safe...

After a long silence, Balthazar said in a cold, distant voice, "Call Veronica. We'll all go back to the apartment together. That way if he gets me again..." He swallowed hard. "At least this time it won't just be you alone."

"Wouldn't it be better for you to talk to her?"

"My phone doesn't get service down here."

"Use mine."

"Just call her." Balthazar's voice was tight.

Dave studied him a moment, suddenly understanding. Balthazar didn't want to face her after this. Was he still such an idiot not to realize they wouldn't blame him? Or was _that_ what he was afraid of? That they _would_ forgive what he considered unforgivable? "You _do _know that she isn't going to hate you for this, right...?"

"Call."

"Balthazar..."

"Now."

Dave sighed, pulling out his phone and flipping it open. He hit speed dial and waited. "What do you think we should do when we get back?" he asked while he listened to the phone ring.

"I'm going to have Veronica ward me into a room. Somewhere I can't get through..."

Dave's head jerked up, surprised. "Isn't that kind of extreme? I mean, can't we just—"

"I just tried to kill you, Dave. I'd say _that's _pretty extreme, too."

Dave sighed. "Fine," he muttered. Best to choose his battles. At least Balthazar was agreeing to go home.

Before he could continue, Veronica and Balthazar's answering machine kicked in. "Hey, Veronica. It's Dave. We had a... problem at the lab. Can you give me a call back when you get this? We're fine, but we're going to need an escort. Thanks. Bye." With that he flipped the phone shut. "Answering machine."

"I figured that much out," he replied dryly, his careful mask back in place. "She must be touching up the wards. She found some weak spots this morning. She'll call back when she's done."

Dave nodded. "You know, she's probably going to be pretty tired when she's done. Why don't I just set the wards on your room until we figure out a better plan. I'm getting pretty good at it."

"No, Dave. You can't. All he'll have to do is make you want to free me. And based on how much you're fussing over a few burns, I don't think he'll have too much trouble coming up with something to draw your attention. If Veronica makes the wards, only she can break them down."

Dave jammed the phone back into his pocket. "Do you really think Veronica wouldn't let you out if you were in danger?"

Balthazar looked straight into Dave's eyes and held his gaze for the first time since the attack, replying firmly, "She will do what needs to be done. Right now my safety is secondary."

His apprentice snorted. "Doubt Veronica would agree with that. I know _I _don't. Neither of us is going to leave you injured for our own safety. If you're in pain—"

"You've never lived through war, Dave. I have. And so has she. There are sacrifices you have to make in war."

"This isn't war, Balthazar."

"It doesn't take an army to wage a war, Dave." The old man closed is eyes and leaned back against the crate.

"Fine. Whatever," Dave grumbled. But he couldn't help consider his master's words. _Believe what you want,_ he thought in frustration. _But Veronica and I aren't letting that asshole get his hands on you. You've been through enough hell._

"I've already told you," Balthazar responded calmly, breaking into his thoughts, as he was wont to do, "that you have no idea what hell is."

Dave started at Balthazar's sudden intrusion into his thoughts, for a moment wondering if he'd spoken that thought aloud. Then he reminded himself who he was dealing with. "Will you stop _doing_that... that... reading minds thing...?"

"Not so easy. When you get aggravated, you're practically shouting. Normally I can just tune you out."

"Well, try to find a different station," Dave replied testily. "Do you do that to Veronica?"

"I can't. It only works with you. Part of our link. You'd be able to read me, too, if I didn't know how to block you out." His eyes fluttered open. "It's how we issue commands from a distance. They don't need to be spoken aloud."

"That's how Jacobus got to you, then?"

Balthazar nodded. "I tried using it to make you back off."

Dave's head snapped up. "Wait. You _what_?" His voice cracked. _You promised..._

Balthazar locked gaze with Dave, and quickly clarified. "Not a forced command. I already told you I wouldn't do that. I just tried to use the Oath to get into your head long enough to warn you."

"I didn't hear you." He tried to mask the relief in his voice, feeling guilty for doubting Balthazar's word... even if only for a moment.

"I know. Jacobus managed to interfere. That's the problem with a master being tied to another master."

A thought struck Dave at that, and he asked, "Is that why Jacobus couldn't get you while Merlin was alive? Merlin interfered?"

"Probably." He paused. "Jacobus was my first master. By all rights, he should have been able to control me even after I'd gained a second. The bond to your first master is, as a rule, the strongest bond a sorcerer will make unless the Oath is completely broken."

"But it wasn't this time?"

Balthazar paused, then carefully responded. "Merlin was the one who freed me. Taught me how to be strong. To stand up for what I believe in... he was like a father to me. We eventually had a bond of our own, with or without the Oath. Jacobus didn't take that into consideration."

"He thought he could just take you back when they caught you, didn't he?"

"He thought a lot of things... If he'd have wanted me back immediately, he'd have had no trouble. Merlin had to take my ring and ward me into a room in the castle until he could get through to me. Even after I began to see reason, it was years before he allowed me anywhere near a battlefield, even though I was well trained to fight by his side."

"He was afraid Jacobus would call you again?"

"He knew he would. If Jacobus realized I was with Merlin, there would have been no doubt. But Jacobus assumed I was dead, and that gave Merlin the opportunity to block most of the connection between Jacobus and I. By the time Jacobus realized his mistake, he couldn't hear me anymore. Didn't know where I was. I'm sure he guessed, but with no ability to break into my mind, he couldn't get me. But face-to-face...? We weren't sure if that proximity would make it too difficult for even Merlin to interfere. It was a long time before we realized that the connection between Merlin and I had grown stronger than my connection with Jacobus."

They were both quiet for a long moment.

"Why do you think he saved you? You never really answered that."

"I already told you. I don't know. Probably because I was dying. I was suffering and his only choices were to kill me or save me." he glanced away. "And if he saved me, he was responsible for what I did afterward."

"They were worse than you."

"You don't know that, Dave."

"I've seen what they did to you," the youth replied softly.

"That was mostly Gwen." Balthazar's expression was half-dead. His eyes distant. "She'd turn it into a game. Play with her victim until she got bored. Then she'd generally hand him over to me to finish the job so she could move on."

"Like a cat."

"What?"

"A cat. That's why I hate cats. Dogs make it quick, but a cat... a cat will catch a mouse and then play with it for hours before it kills the poor thing."

Balthazar nodded. "That sounds about right." He paused thoughtfully. "I don't think Gwen ever actually killed any of the people we caught, though," he said suddenly. He shook his head. "It was always Jacobus and I."

"Really?" Dave answered, surprised. "She sounded like the kill-for-fun sort."

"Not really." Balthazar's brow furrowed as he thought back. "That's not entirely true. She did kill one man, but that was as much Jacobus as her. They kept trading him back and forth. Eventually Jacobus drove him mad. Gwen expected more of a fight, but didn't realize he was already too far gone to offer up any resistance."

"What did she do?"

"She stopped his heart."

"Geez."

"With her hand."

Dave looked green.

"She thought she could restart it, but he wouldn't wake up after she tried. Then I suppose too much time lapsed, so they left him to rot." There was an odd bitterness to his voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"They made you clean up, didn't they?"

"No," Balthazar replied quietly. "I was already gone."

Dave didn't know how to respond to that. "So," he said, anxious to keep Balthazar talking before he could withdraw too much again, "Gwen's the cat. And Jacobus...?"

Balthazar's eyes narrowed. "Jacobus... Have you ever taken a psychology class?"

Dave blinked, startled by the abrupt change in subject. "Yeah. Long time ago."

"Remember Skinner? The guy with the rats?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Jacobus is the type who would train the rats."

"I don't get it."

"If he were a psychologist, he'd be the type who would shock the rats every time they tried to drink. Scare them away from their own water. So that they would dehydrate with a bowl right in front of them."

"They'd die of thirst..."

"No. They'd die of fear."

"What were you then?"

"I was an exterminator. I just killed people to get rid of them. Anyone. Their lives meant nothing to me. And I killed hundreds."

"You've changed a lot, then." He studied his friend carefully, a thought coming to mind that had been bothering since he'd first learned of Jacobus and his sadistic wife. "Balthazar...?"

"What?"

"What were you like before?"

Balthazar's eyes flicked up to meet Dave's, his brow furrowed, confusion evident in his blue eyes. "Before what? Before I met Jacobus? I already told you."

Dave shook his head, treading carefully. "No. I meant... Veronica said you were different before they... took you..." He turned away from Balthazar's intense gaze. "I just wondered..."

His master simply shrugged. "I'm sure I was. I know I _felt_different." His demeanor was casual, but there was something different about his expression. A tightness that struck Dave as odd.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember," Balthazar replied quietly. "It's been a long time." He closed his eyes. "...And there are ... gaps now..."

Dave's eyes narrowed. "Gaps?"

"Missing pieces. Things that are gone from my memory. Merlin couldn't get them back."

At first Dave didn't quite understand. Then a sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as realization set in... _Gaps in his memory... after three weeks of torture, things were just... gone... _Dave shut his eyes tightly. "Geez..." he whispered. "What did they do to you?"

Apparently this topic of conversation had pushed Balthazar past his limit, though, because with that question, he abruptly stood up, his strange, contemplative demeanor dropping off of him like a cloak as he rose. "I'm taking a shower," he announced. "Don't get up until I get back. You seem to be breathing fine now, but I don't want you getting dizzy and falling again."

"Balthazar, I—"

"Just rest. If Veronica calls, don't give her details. I don't trust the phone. Just have her come and pick us up." He brushed the dirt and grime from the lab floor off of himself.

"Balthazar—"

"Read your Incantus while you're waiting." He walked over to the floor where it was now resting and picked it up, bringing it over to his apprentice and dropping it on the floor next to him. "Defensive spells. Chapter Twelve has a number of defensive spells. I'll be quick." And with those words, Balthazar walked out of the room, leaving Dave to his jumble of thoughts.

* * *

_Author's note: I'm so so so so so sorry about the ridiculously long wait for this chapter. This has been a ridiculously busy school year for me. I've had college classes to take and I'm teaching extra classes as well, so unfortunately real life attacked full force. Then there is the fact that I rewrote this chapter two or three times..._

_Anyway, point being I'm very sorry and I hope the next chapter will not take too long. Thanks to my betas kaytori, lolo popoki, and frost phoenix. And of course thanks to all of your for your patience. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  
_

_Sirius_

_P. S. One last note. Check out Kaytori's "Plot Bunnies". One of her chapters is a spin-off of "Against All Odds." She wrote Chapter 16's attack from Balthazar's POV and it is excellent, so please read it and review:)  
_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

Dave leaned back against the crate, lost in thought. Torture... Balthazar's body had been torn apart, both inside and out. And his mind had been tampered with, probably irreparably if Merlin had been unable to fix it. No wonder he'd been different after he'd come back. And no wonder he was, by his own admission, a little crazy these days...

Dave glanced over at the Incantus on the crate Balthazar had been leaning against, a sudden thought striking him. A bout of curiosity. If it had been possible to hear Balthazar at his worst... shouldn't Dave be able to see what he was like under Merlin? Before the torture?

Suddenly Dave had the overwhelming need to see his master, his _friend_, as he had been, even if only as a memory. The worry was gnawing away at him. He needed something to show him that it would all be okay eventually. Balthazar had dealt with Jacobus before and look how good he'd turned out. Dave stopped a bit at that, as he pictured his the ancient sorcerer in one of his pissier moods... He winced... Which was honestly like ninety percent of the time...

He shook his head to clear his mind. Okay, fine... So, maybe "good" wasn't _exactly_ the word he was looking for. Still... almost anything was better than the old man's current self-prognosis...

He pulled himself carefully to his knees and, after testing to be sure he wouldn't collapse again, moved over to Balthazar's crate and dragged the Incantus down, plopping it onto his lap. He yanked it open and began flipping pages, hunting for the right section. After a couple minutes of hunting, he finally came to the right chapter: _The Lives of Sorcerers_.

How had it worked? He'd just touched Balthazar's name, hadn't he? He lifted his hand, ready to brush his fingers against his Master's name when the memory of Veronica's words came back to him: _"Merlin believed that everyone has a right to his their privacy..._"

Dave hesitated. Balthazar wouldn't appreciate Dave interfering. But he was only looking for good bits. Just enough to put his own mind at ease. And to remind Balthazar that he'd been, and still was, a good person. Maybe he'd even find a couple of his lost memories. That couldn't be so bad, right...?

He pushed any doubts from his mind and dropped his hand to the paper, studying the lists of names carefully. What had he done last time? Hadn't he just touched Balthazar's and Jacobus's names and it had shown him a clip of their time together? Was it really that simple?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself for anything as he moved his fingers to Balthazar's name.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered, brushing his fingers across the rough paper.

No change in sound. He heard sirens in the distance. He highly doubted they had police cars back then.

He cracked one eye open just in case there was some visual for him and the sound was just broken or something.

_Nope. Nothing._

He gritted his teeth, frustrated, still running his finger lightly over the names. _What am I do differently_? He tried rubbing harder. "Come on," he muttered. "Stupid thing. Why do you always listen to _him_ when _he_ wants something?" He glared at the offending object on his lap. "I just want to see them. Is that so much to ask?"

Before the words had escaped his lips, there was a flash of light and an explosion of sights and sounds all around him. It wasn't what he'd expected. He'd been anticipating quiet moments with Veronica or training with Merlin... Even... friend stuff with Horvath, as weird as that would be.

He hadn't expected an explosion near his head as a tree shattered into a million pieces from what appeared to be an intense plasma both. Instinctively, Dave covered his face to protect himself, but the pieces flew harmlessly by. Carefully, he opened his eyes. _It's just an image, Dave,_ he reminded himself. _Like a hologram or something. It's not real... At least... not anymore..._

But it had been real once...

Dave looked around to see sorcerers in the distance, fighting, and killing each other. His eyes scanned past the people as he tried to see details in the smoke and chaos around him. He was glad he could only see and hear what was going on. The smoke, he was certain would be choking him by now otherwise.

His eyes scanned the area. He was in a village by the looks of it. The kind he'd seen in old King Arthur movies. Only shabbier. There were no villagers to be seen. Only sorcerers bent on killing each other. Dave hoped the people who lived here had left and weren't...

He tore his eyes away from burning thatch.

The sorcerer wars that Balthazar had spoken about... Dave had somehow pictured it differently: Off in its own secluded little hole in the world while ordinary folk were mostly kept out of it. He didn't like this reality.

Small cottages and shacks were on fire. Animals were running in a panic. There was a dark, sooty cloud filling the air and obscuring much of Dave's view to his right. There were screams of pain and anger and sadness all around him. Hatred so strong he could almost feel it, even though this was all centuries away from him.

And magic. There was magic all around him. Wielded by men and women bent on destruction.

Dave wasn't sure what bothered him worse. The pain and despair he could hear riding on a wind that couldn't touch him. Or the fact that he couldn't tell who was causing it. Were the victims Merlinian or Morganian? A part of them hoped they weren't Merlinian, but if not. If they were innocent outsiders—or even Morganians—then why were they still suffering? Weren't Merlinians around? Why were there people untreated and suffering? Where were the good guys? Everyone seemed the same in this place. Everyone bent on killing everyone else. He'd always assumed that the war had been a large-scale version of Battery Park. Where good triumphed over a clear evil. But this... this was just chaos. And as much as Dave hated to admit it, he had a feeling that some of the Merlinians here weren't all that much better than the Morganians. Every Merlinian apparently was not like Balthazar and Veronica. Those two were apparently better than most. The rest... Maybe it was just his vantage point... He hoped so. He preferred believing that all Merlinians had been as good as his friend...

Suddenly Horvath's betrayal, while still terrible, suddenly seemed less surprising. It was still terrible, and Dave didn't know if he could ever really forgive the man. But he could see how there were levels of morality in each faction of the war, just like in the real world. Just because you were a peacekeeper—a Merlinian—didn't mean that you were any more moral than a Morganian. Not really.

And _that_ was the reason idiots like Horvath could so easily turn their backs on everyone they love. And the reason Morganians like Balthazar had been could grow into someone Dave could hold in such high regards. Weak men were always weak, even when given great power. Whereas great men could have their magic stripped from them and still be worth infinitely more.

There was another explosion, nearer than the last one. Once again out of pure instinct, the young sorcerer covered his head before remembering that nothing could hurt him here. It didn't stop his heart from racing though. _Enough with the analyzing, Dave. This isn't a movie. It's the real world. _Dave glanced around again, that thought jarring him back to reality, as skewed as it currently was. _Sort of..._

Speaking of great men and idiots... Balthazar was here somewhere in this mess. And likely so was Jacobus. Which battle was this? Dave paled as a terrible thought struck him. Not the one when Jacobus and Gwen took him... He hoped to God not. He didn't want to see that. Especially knowing that he couldn't do anything to help his friend...

There was a shout very near to him, and Dave spun to see a couple of sorcerers approaching; a small red-haired girl with bright green eyes who couldn't have been more than eighteen-years-old, if that, and an even younger boy. Twelve... thirteen at best. It was hard to say. Both of them appeared to be wearing rust-colored tunics of an odd, irregular shade.

It took Dave a long moment before he realized that the tunics hadn't originally been that color.

The girl shouted something to the boy and motioned in Dave's general direction. Dave cringed back for a moment, afraid that the girl could somehow see him. There was something about her eyes that frightened him. She was obviously Morganian. The boy probably was, too.

_Geez... how many kids were dragged into this thing?_

The boy turned to look in the direction she'd pointed, his blue eyes focusing on something in the distance, just past Dave.

For a single moment, Dave stopped breathing, a fascinated, horrified recognition kicking in. His eyes were fixated in awe at the boy his master had been. He didn't look so different from now, really, now that Dave could see his face. Shorter and that sort of awkward skinny of young teens, even if they were strong. Dave had been that way, too—Well, he still was, to be honest—But aside from that, and the lines absent from his master's face, Balthazar was still clearly recognizable as Balthazar.

Except for the poison in his eyes. Whether Dave liked it or not, this boy was a killer. He was Morganian. The blood he was wearing was not his own. And his eyes held no remorse.

"Balthazar..." Dave whispered.

Balthazar's head abruptly jerked at that small sound and the boy stiffened, his cold eyes narrowing, scanning the area.

"What?" the girl asked, her voice smooth and soft as satin.

"We're being watched," he murmured.

"We're among people," she replied simply. "Of course we are."

"Not that way," he responded. "Not with normal eyes."

Her brows drew together at that, and she stiffened, closing her eyes. She appeared to be listening carefully to something. After a moment, they snapped open again. "You're wrong," she announced flatly. There's nothing."

"I _heard_. Just let me—"

"Well, you're wrong," she snapped, her voice suddenly taking on a harsh, vicious tone. "Do you want me to tell Jacobus that you're stalling on his directives?"

The boy paled at those words, and a cool smile curved her lips. "I thought not. I need to get back to them. Our masters are waiting. You know your orders. We will meet you after. Now go."

He nodded shortly, his eyes still suspicious, but clearly the threat of Jacobus was enough to close that topic of discussion. "Yes, Gwen," he murmured sullenly. "Of course."

Dave jerked back so hard at the sudden recognition of her name that his true form jerked as well, and the Incantus dropped from his lap, causing the image to abruptly disappear.

_Gwen? _Dave shook his head. _No. It has to be another Gwen. That... that _kid's_ younger than _me_! She can't be the sadist who tortured Balthazar... she..._ But his mind drifted back to the look on her face. The harsh venom in her voice. The flickers of fear that had played across Balthazar's features as she spoke, and he knew it was her.

"Geez..." he whispered. "Can this whole thing get any more messed up?"

"Probably. It usually does."

For the second time in less than five minutes, Dave nearly had a heart attack. His head whipped up and he saw his master standing in the bathroom doorway, drying his dripping hair with a towel.

"Do you_ have_ to sneak up on me like that?" snapped Dave. "Every single flipping time?"

Balthazar almost managed a weak smile at that, his eyes for a fraction of a second returning to normal. "Have to get my kicks somehow. Why are you so jumpy?" His eyes fell on the Incantus on the floor beside his apprentice.

For once, Dave was grateful for klutizly dropping the Incantus. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he replied simply, hoping to God Balthazar didn't ask for further clarification.

But the old man simply shrugged and motioned to the shower. "Your turn. Are you feeling well enough to get up yet?"

The boy nodded and slowly heaved himself to his feet. "Yeah," he replied a touch awkwardly, unable to meet Balthazar's eyes. "I'm better. How about you?" He picked up the heavy tome and set it on the crate he'd been leaning against, more to give himself an extra moment before he completely had to straighten and deal with the bout of lightheadedness that was sure to follow. "That was an awful quick shower, Balthazar." He finally took a breath and straightened, looking the man in the face. "Did you bother bandaging yourself?"

The elder man snorted softly at that. "I'm fine. Worry about yourself."

"So the answer is no," Dave replied flatly.

He was rewarded with a sour glare. "Shower."

Dave opened his mouth, but Balthazar levelled him with a look so worn and tired that it silenced him. "Now."

As much as the youth wanted to push the point—maybe even attempt to force-heal it—he didn't. An argument wouldn't change anything. Balthazar was too stubborn, and bickering would only further wear on the man. Dave didn't want to be the straw that broke his master's back...

Instead Dave sighed and just shook his head, stomping into the shower room. He stripped quickly and hopped in, cranking the squeaky metal faucet and yelping a little as cold water poured over him, numbing his body. Causing his neck to throb. His mind still raced. The book hadn't helped. All it had done was worry Dave further. Balthazar hadn't started off bad—even _he_ admitted that, which was saying something—but the boy Dave had seen in the Incantus had been a hardened killer. Dave couldn't say how he knew, beyond a gut feeling and the connection he had to the old man. He had felt it. If Jacobus had managed to change him so much in only a few short years... What would he do if he got a mature, experienced and incredibly powerful Balthazar now? How long would it take to turn him again? The old man might be able to fight Jacobus off, but it had become obvious that he couldn't do it forever. And if Jacobus tried to brainwash him again...

_What to do? What to do? What to do? _

What was even the priority? Dave had assumed it would obviously be destroying Jacobus, or at very least trapping him in the Grimhold, but he was finally starting to accept that taking Jacobus down might not be an option. Sure, Dave had destroyed Morgana, but that had been with Balthazar's help as well. And there was something completely different about Jacobus. He was like a wild animal: unpredictable and powerful. And although he was only Morgana's apprentice... unlike her, he'd had the past millennium or so to hone his skills. If Morgana had been deadly, Dave had no idea how to classify Jacobus... The apprentice, Prime Merlinian or not, couldn't take the elder sorcerer down alone, at least not alone...

Dave got the impression that Veronica couldn't either. Maybe Balthazar, with all his years of experience, could have managed it if he hadn't been taken by surprise and disarmed, but now...

Dave sighed, shivering in the cold water, scrubbing himself down as quickly as he could. Taking extra care to be gentle with his bruised neck. It was a moot point anyway. Balthazar couldn't fight Jacobus without his ring.

_The ring..._ Dave stiffened. _That's it. We just need to get his ring..._

His shoulders slumped. Yeah right... and pigs would fly. Jacobus had been wearing it each time Dave had seen him. The only way to get it from him would be to catch him asleep or something. And the only way _that _was going to happen would be if Dave were taken prisoner and got lucky enough to break out... He snorted at that mental image. Again with the flying pigs. Maybe Balthazar would have a chance at that, but Dave...?

Almost as soon as that thought formed solidly in his mind, a sick realization kicked in. Balthazar would do anything to protect them. Even walk into one of Jacobus' traps by himself. If he believed that were the only way to get the ring back...

And Dave had left him out there alone...

"_Dammit!"_

Dave jerked the tap off and leapt out of the shower before the water was even quite done. Throwing a towel around his waist, he burst into the lab's huge main room, throwing the door open with such an urgent force that it clattered loudly against the cement wall.

"Balthazar?"

Silence, save his own rasping breath.

"_Balthazar!"_ he shouted.

The only response was his own echo, mocking him. It was no use. Balthazar was gone.

_Shit. _Where would he go? The apartment? Not likely, as it would just draw Jacobus to Veronica. More likely he'd have gone hunting for his old master alone, like the absolute _idiot_ that he could sometimes be...

He scanned the room hopefully, praying that maybe he was wrong. Maybe Balthazar had a logical reason for being missing. Maybe he'd even left a note... _Yeah right. And maybe Jacobus will turn over a new leaf and leave us alone..._

Even with the complete unlikeliness of the situation, he found himself approaching the crate that held his Incantus. Nothing rested on the book except the Dave's cell phone. Dave stared at it a moment in confusion. He hadn't left the phone on the crate. He'd shoved it back into his jacket pocket. Had Balthazar used it? Who would he have called? Dave stepped in front of the heavy wooden box, and numbly bent to pick up the phone.

He flipped it open. Three voicemails. Dave scrolled down the list to find the most recent numbers.

Veronica.

Hope welled up inside of him. So, maybe Balthazar really _did_ have a valid excuse. If she'd needed him to come... It wasn't likely that he'd have left without at least telling Dave, but still... if it were important...

Dave selected the first message and hit play. Her familiar voice rang out through the tiny speaker. "Dave, if you and Balthazar are done in the lab, I need you to come back to the apartment. There's something you need to see. The wards have been modified. I thought Jacobus had just weakened them last night, but there's something else I can't place. Something cloaked. I'd like your opinion. And I'm going to need help tightening them again. Hurry. And please be careful. If he can modify these, then he can do the same to the wards at the lab."

Dave stared at the phone stupidly. Jacobus had visited the apartment last night? Why had she waited until _now_ to tell them? His lips tightened into a thin line. Then again, she'd spoken as though she didn't expect it to be a surprise to at least _one _of them.

Too worried to be properly annoyed, Dave played the second message.

"Hello, young David." That cheerful voice drove a cold icicle deep into Dave's heart. "Do put your master on. I'd like to have a word with him, and he's ignoring me now." There was a long pause, before he continued as though the psychopath actually believed Dave would have passed over the phone. "Hello, old man! Did you have fun playing with your apprentice? I hope he didn't tire you out too much. I have use for you..." There was a pause before he continued, if possible sounding even more cheerful than before. " Or rather, your wife does. Your lovely Veronica is quite adept at wards. I've had quite a difficult time of these. Except that apparently your young pupil helped her build some of them. Hers are quite a challenge to crack. I've not been able to find a chink in the wards around the room. His wards over the structure itself, however... those were quite a different matter, given that he's allowed me access once in your training area." His voice was mocking.

"But I digress. Your wife... You have thirty minutes to bring me what I want or else she will die. Even if I can't get into the apartment, that won't do her much good when the entire building blows up. Even the best of buildings can have issues with gas lines now and then." His voice was pleasant. "I'll see you in the basement. I do hope you check this message in time. Goodbye, old man." The message ended.

Dave was almost sick.

_No. Not Veronica. He can't have Veronica._ He shook his head. _She's too strong. He's bluffing. _

But what if he wasn't? And did it matter if he was? Balthazar obviously had heard the message and believed him, which meant bluff or not, the old man was now in danger, himself.

He glanced at the clock, then back down at the phone to read the time of the call. It had been five minutes already. If he ran, he'd be lucky to make it to the building on time. He didn't have time to worry. He just needed to act. He turned back toward the shower room to grab his clothes. Then, after hastily throwing them on, he clattered up the steps and out the door at a breakneck pace.

In his hurry, it never even occurred to Dave to play the last message.

* * *

_Author's Note: First of all, I'm so so so sorry for the incredibly long wait. And I'm sorry the chapter wasn't longer. For those of you who are still with me, thanks for your patience. I appreciate it. For new readers and old, thanks so much for reading. As always, reviews are appreciated, but certainly not required. I'm just happy that you're reading. (I do love reviews, though. I admit it. I'm a review junkie. Heh...) Anyway, thanks to you all. This chapter was difficult for me to write, and I've been terribly busy, but hopefully now things are back to a pace where I can work on this with more regularity!  
_

_Thanks as always to my betas Kaytori, lolo popoki and FrostPhoenix, as well as sueb262! They have all edited, prodded, coaxed and threatened to help get this chapter to you! They deserve a hand!_

_Ciao!_

_Sirius:)_

___P. S. One last note. I've mentioned it before, but it was a belated "P.S." on the last chapter, and I feel like it's worth mentioning again. Please, check out Kaytori's "Plot Bunnies". One of her chapters is a spin-off of "Against All Odds." She rewrote the attack in Chapter 16 of "Against All Odds" from Balthazar's POV and it is excellent, so please read it and review for her! :D  
_


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